


Love Like Ours

by lunarsilverwolfstar



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drama, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-31 01:11:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarsilverwolfstar/pseuds/lunarsilverwolfstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maths professor John Smith is a believer of true love and believes he has found it, one night, in a mysterious blonde woman dressed as Little Red Riding Hood. The problem? He has slowly been falling for business major student Rose Tyler, whom he happened upon accidentally one day, and then found his childhood best friends, Rory Williams and Amy Pond, knew her as well. After getting past their own fears and stubborness, they find joy in one another. Tribulation soon follows. Will love be enough?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lighting the Spark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aintfraidanoghosts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aintfraidanoghosts/gifts), [vannadear](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=vannadear), [callistawolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/callistawolf/gifts), [fogsblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fogsblue/gifts).



> [](http://s1098.photobucket.com/user/wolfylunarstar/media/My%20Banners/LoveLikeOurs_zps03398070.jpg.html)   
> 
> 
> _This fic is going to be dedicated to quite a few people. Number one and one being[Bear](http://www.whofic.com/viewuser.php?uid=13407) and [Vanna](http://vannadear.tumblr.com) for their birthdays are coming up! And also [Calli](http://www.whofic.com/viewuser.php?uid=16279) for giving me the prompt: "A geek is in search of the mysterious girl that kissed him on Halloween, but his only clues are her blonde hair... and her pink Converse shoes." What was only meant to be a one-shot blew up in my face and became...whatever this is._
> 
> _I will be updating once a week on Thursdays except for Thanksgiving weekend. This is my first go at a fic like this (College AU). Hope you all enjoy! A thousand thanks to[Fogs](http://www.whofic.com/viewuser.php?uid=15186) for her quick and amazing beta-work. This is also for you, love!_
> 
> _Will eventually be rated Adult, but for now it's just Teen._
> 
> _Happy Halloween, everyone!_
> 
> [Playlist](http://grooveshark.com/#!/playlist/College+AU+Fic/90758234).

Professor Doctor John Smith dismissed his last class of the day and, for the first time since the semester started, had no stragglers what-so-ever. He wondered, how did he get himself into these situations? Sighing, he collected the paper, pencils, and various geometric rulers that were scattered on the desk into his bag, actually remembering to pack up his dry-erase markers as well. Exiting the campus of the University of London on foot, he looked around, hoping to catch sight of a certain blonde. He stayed there until he finally realised how utterly ridiculous he must look to passers-by. Chiding himself for even thinking about her in that way, he continued on to where a cluttered flat awaited him.

Closing the door of said flat fifteen minutes later, he pressed his rather large forehead against it. He really needed to stop thinking about _her_ like that. Shoving his bag underneath his desk, the only place an area was clear of bits and bobs save for a wooden frame containing a picture he held dear. John pressed fingers to his lips, then to the picture in greeting, and then headed to the ensuite. Peering into the mirror with tired, green eyes, he narrowed onto his prominent chin where a few whiskers were growing. There might as well have been an army of facial hair with the way he took them down with the efficiency of a general.

Turning his head this way and that, furrowing his brow and bringing his practically-non-existent eyebrows together, he smiled, nodding in satisfaction before stepping into the shower. He went for the cold knob first and yelped when he was immediately sprayed with frigid water, cursing at having left the showerhead's knob turned on earlier today. He adjusted the temperature and let the droplets wash off his day's worries. It seemed to work…

Right up until he arrived where he was supposed to be meeting his friends. Here, his nerves got the better of him. The place was absolutely crowded. John fidgeted uncomfortably as he said a quick hello to one of his students. He wandered around for a while, trying to find the best spot to hide- 'Scout,' he rectified in his mind, for his friends. From the corner of his eyes, he caught someone wearing a red hood with a bit of blonde hair peeking out, but when he turned around fully to take a look, the person was gone.

He frowned before brushing it off, continuing to look for his two very meddlesome mates. He gave up after about half an hour as he waved at Lisa Faes, the fifth student of his he'd run into. It's not like he _stood out_ or anything. He was closer in age to most of his students than any of the other professors here. Even some of his students were older than him! Maybe that's why he felt out of sorts. He was sure that, had he been around Professor Gregory Pace's age, he would have simply scoffed and glared at everyone who dared look his way. Chuckling to himself, he leaned against a wall in a somewhat abandoned corner with a drink in hand.

He was currently in the middle of a regular ol' college party multiplied by ten. Today was Halloween. From his morning class until now, most of his younger students had been celebrating all-out. While most had been able to control themselves and adhere to the university's rules about not wearing costumes to class, plenty of them had not, while others still celebrated in one way or another - either by wearing graphic tees honouring this festive holiday, covering themselves in makeup (which wasn't allowed either), and/or wearing other ornate accessories. Thankfully, there had been no alarming events and now that most classes were over the campus cops were being more lenient in allowing the students to roam about as they pleased. There was more security than most nights which made the university relatively safe and most students preferred to enjoy the night here. John was certain that the other campus houses were just as full as this one.

It was just past ten in the evening now and most people looked like they were just getting started. He frowned as he saw one of his younger students being harassed by an fourth year (though he could swear Mark Lyte had been here for much longer) and was just about to intervene when he saw Rita Jenkins rightfully slap him before marching away. He couldn't help the proud smile that spread across his face even though, as an employee of the school, he shouldn't condone such acts of violence, no matter how well-deserved.

Besides being a professor, John felt rather out of place because he'd never actually attended a college party before now. He had entered college at the tender age of fifteen and had breezed through like the genius he was. He'd achieved a doctorate at twenty-two and had immediately been offered several jobs throughout London. Schools, museums, research facilities, libraries - everyone wanted a piece of John. In the end, he'd decided to stay at his alma mater as his favourite maths professor had retired the year he'd graduated and had recommended John for the position. Besides being familiar with the location, curriculum, and atmosphere, his friends had also begun to attend.

Amelia Pond and Rory Williams had been his best friends since grade school. John had always been awkward as a child and had never had many friends. When he'd gone to live with his grandfather in the quaint town of Leadworth following his parents' deaths, he'd ended up having to attend the small school there that hosted all years. He ended up being picked on quite frequently for his intelligence. Some people didn't like to be upstaged and John did so with ease whether he meant to or not. He spent all his time with his nose in one book or another, books that were often slammed shut on his face.

It wasn't until redheaded Amelia Pond, who had come to live in the small town with her aunt just a few short months after him, had come to his defence that he was left alone. She had arrived with a tall, gangly boy their age named Rory Williams who had apparently also stood up for her just the day before and had a black eye to prove it.

Soon, the three were inseparable and everyone at school knew it. He'd connected with Amelia, Amy as she later preferred to be called, more because of their shared orphanage, but also found brotherhood in Rory when their female comrade would turn her temper to either one of them. A few years later, just before he found out he'd be receiving a full-ride to the gifted program at the University of London, he started to realise there was something… special going on between his friends. Before this, however, his grandfather, William Smith, had been afraid that John would never get through school for all the mischief he and his mates caused (usually defending others from the school bullies). Mostly, however, he knew the elderly man was proud and amused by their pranks against the notorious harriers.

Visiting home during the holidays two years later, Rory (shyly, but happy) and Amy (boldly and joyfully) had announced they were dating. John had been elated by the news, smug to know he was right, and had admitted to having his own special someone. The redhead had jumped on his case, demanding to know everything about his girlfriend and why he hadn't told them sooner.

Looking at his friends dancing together now, he couldn't help but smile. Rory wore a realistic-looking set of armour that, at the same time, looked very light, a no-doubt plastic sword sheathed in its holder, and a red cape, completing the look with authentic sandals of the era of the Roman centurions. Definitely Amy's doing, who wore a Roman goddess gown to compliment him. Fortuna? No, most likely Venus, knowing Amy. Some people found it startling that the pair was still together after all this time. Those two were quite different: Amy was more fierce and loud while Rory was calmer and subtle; yet he had never seen two people more suited for one another. The image framed in his flat of a middle-aged couple smiling at each other and holding hands flashed through his mind, along with a dull ache in his heart.

"You're not meant to look sad on Halloween, you know." A rough, feminine voice startled him out of his thoughts. He could hardly hear her over the music and wasn't paying attention quite yet.

"Unless you're haunted by your past." Green eyes clouded in sorrow, thinking about what else today represented.

She shook her head. "Our past is always with us. The next few days aren't meant to be a time to mourn, but to celebrate life." She extended her hand.

He looked from the offered hand, finally taking in a masked face and wisps of blonde hair peeking out of her red hood. He'd seen her earlier, he was sure. He continued to stare at the unique outfit of Little Red Riding Hood. The hooded cape looked like it was made of a thick, sturdy fabric, a grey skirt ending at a modest length (surprising, considering most females here were probably wearing the skimpiest outfits they found), and a simple white blouse with a black corset adorned her well. A shiny red mask covered most of her features, but he was sure there was an enticing face to be found underneath. He pretended to not understand what she was asking, waiting for her to move along and leave him alone, sure that she could attract someone a lot more… attractive than himself. Plus, he wasn't really looking for anything or anyone here. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

Instead of leaving, she tilted her head and considered. "What, you don't dance?"

Surprising himself, he blushed and was thankful that the room was dark enough to hide the redness of his cheeks. His sudden self-consciousness made him play with the cuffs of his own outfit, a simple Victorian suit of deep purple Amy had assured him made him look 'debonair'. "Not… well," he admitted, now fiddling with the buttons of his waistcoat.

"The world doesn't end because John Smith dances." She smiled teasingly, the tip of her tongue darting out of her mouth until it was quickly pulled back in.

Before he could think about why the action seemed so familiar or how she knew his name ( _oh_ , if this was one of his students asking him because of some type of bet, he'd fail those involved, teaching ethics be damned), she took his hand in hers and led him to the dance floor. He stood still when she took his other palm in hers as well.

"You'll find your feet at the end of your legs. You may care to move them," she said kindly, encouraging him.

At first, all John could manage was shuffling his feet, which suddenly seemed enormous. He was afraid of making a fool of himself in front of her even though something told him she wouldn't mind. He didn't know what it was, but he felt completely at ease with her. The storm that had begun to brew cleared away as the world around them disappeared. He squeezed her smooth left hand in his right before letting it go, only to bring his arm around her to pull her closer, hand resting on her hip. He inhaled the sweet scent that escaped from underneath the hood of her costume as she rested her head against his shoulder. His grip around her tightened. Even as the music became face-paced once again, they continued to sway gently to their own beat.

Several times, he was tempted to strike up a conversation with her, but either the loud noise around them or his own cowardice, his heart beating like a loud drum, intervened each time. She hadn't sounded familiar, but… He was amazed at how easily he lost himself in this girl. John shook his head mentally, feeling her soft curves pressing against him. No, not a girl, she was definitely a woman. A woman who knew what she wanted. She rose and he gasped as soft lips met his slightly chapped ones, lighting a spark inside him. Before he could respond in kind, however, she stepped back, mouth parted in shock, as if she could not believe what she had done. Even in the dim lighting, he could tell her eyes were wide behind the red mask though he could not quite tell their colour.

"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" She cut herself off, pursing her lips and turning, pushing through the cluster of bodies, running away.

He could only gape, his body frozen in shock. The only thing he could seem to focus on was her footwear. 'Pink converse with a Little Red costume is such an odd combination.'

"John, John, what happened? Who was that?"

Hearing Amy's voice beside him and feeling a hand on his shoulder, he finally snapped out of his reverie. He looked behind him to see Rory looking at him with the same concern that his girlfriend was voicing.

"I-I don't know." He was completely baffled. He hadn't come here for a good time, but somehow he had been enjoying himself with the blonde Red Riding Hood though all they did was dance and speak very little. Was she really even blonde? What if it was just a wig? He completely zoned out his friends' worries as these thoughts and more raced through his mind.

Amy, of course, didn't take kindly to this and went off ranting at him. "Such a space case, I swear. How did you survive all these years without us? We bring you out to enjoy yourself and…"

Rory was now trying to calm her down, but to no avail.

Finally John had had enough. "I'm leaving." He made his way through the crowd and mentally scolded himself for not following the blonde Red sooner. When he was finally out, the cool October air refreshed him and his determination for answers grew. A fire had begun inside of him and he would not rest until he found the one who would burn along with him.


	2. Caught Up

"Where were you last night?" Rory dropped his bag and two large books onto the table before seating himself across from her.

Rose Tyler rolled her eyes good-naturedly at her grumpy friend. "Well, good morning to you too." She ducked under the table for a second before coming back up with a thermos in each hand.

Rory eagerly took the darker thermos and happily drank the saving grace that presented itself in the form of coffee. "Sorry, it was a long night…" He glanced at her. "…which you would have known if you had actually made an appearance."

She shrugged. "I have a test today, stayed in studying."

"Why did I have to go, then?" he whinged a little before drinking some more coffee, more delicately this time.

"Because if you hadn't Amy would have hung you by the-"

"Language, Rose!"

She poked her tongue out at him teasingly and he observed her closely. Something wasn't quite right. "John was there you know. Wouldn't socialise with anyone, just did the sulking thing," he said, trying to be as casual as possible and he noticed the blush that rose on her cheeks. "Someone pulled him out to dance. They kissed. He couldn't stop raving about her."

"Really?" She shrugged, looking down at her book intensely. "That's nice."

He took out his own textbooks, his netbook, which he booted up, and looked back to see she was still faintly red. That's when he realised she was being way too casual about his news. His eyes widened. "It was you!" he exclaimed.

"Shhh! Rory!" she hissed under her breath. Looking around to see if anyone was watching them, she was relieved to see that they weren't.

"Why didn't you just tell him?" He tried his best not to sound accusatory and hoped he succeeded.

"It wasn't like I planned it!" she whispered frantically. "I just, I… Oh, it's so stupid."

"What?" He really wanted to know what she thought, wanted to know Rose wasn't just playing with his friend. Even though he was sure she felt something for John, he was always one for caution.

"I just wanted to dance with him." Her cheeks reddened further. "I hadn't planned to kiss him, but it'd felt so nice and," she shrugged, "kissing him just felt _right_ somehow." She looked down at the table, shoulders now hunched.

Rory looked at her, thoughtful. "You know, he said something similar last night."

At this, her head shot up and at the hope glowing in her clear, brown eyes, he couldn't help but set her mind at ease. "John's always been quite the romantic and yet he's never actually _tried_ for a relationship since we got here. He's had a couple of girlfriends, but none of them have ever been _the_ one. His words, not mine," he pointed out. "One kiss from his _mysterious blonde_ last night and he's determined to find her." Noticing her look down again and her brow crease, he continued, "Rose," he waited for her to look up again before saying, "I'm sure if you told him, he'd be over the moon. Ever since the two of you met… There's, there's just been _something there_."

"Quoting Disney movies now, are you?" She smiled faintly, but he saw that her spirit was once again rising.

"Just don't tell Amy," he joked before taking a more serious tone. "You two have been walking circles around each other and when you're not doing that, you're running away. Both of you! You really need to talk."

"It's not that simple, though. I'm almost done with school and really need to focus. Plus, I'm a student, he's a professor. It wouldn't be-"

"Appropriate? You two are hardly the first teacher/student relationship to have happened on campus. There are no rules against it. Rose," this time he was gentle, "ever since I first met you, you've always been very… lonely. I know that's not how you're meant to be. John's the same. Sure, he has Amy and I, and so do you, but you two need _more_."

"I'll think about it, okay? I can't give you more than that."

Knowing if he pushed too hard, he would do more damage than good, Rory agreed.

The two got back to their work, working in silence together.

\----

Rose sighed, her mind wandering far, far away from her lecture. She was currently in her fourth, and final, year as a business major and had entered the University of London at the age of eighteen. She had passed her A-levels in English, business, and psychology with flying colours, and had done moderately well in computing and economics. It had been quite the surprise when she'd done so. Even her mother, Jackie Tyler, for all her talk about Rose getting 'airs and graces', had been quite proud of her daughter. When she approached her mum about attending university, Jackie had been hesitant, but encouraging.

Thanks to her Grandfather Alan Tyler, she had enough funds to attend uni. When she and Jackie had found out her paternal grandfather had left Rose 100,000 pounds in his will (a paternal grandparent she had never met, but had left the money to 'Pete Tyler's offspring(s)') to say that they'd been pleasantly surprised would be an understatement. Peter Alan Tyler, her dad, had died when she was just a baby and had apparently been out-of-sorts with his parents. However, she was very thankful that Grandfather Alan had never stopped caring for his son and had left her with a means to survive a little better.

Between her and her mum, they'd decided to put half of it towards Rose's education, thirty-five per cent saved for an emergency, and the remaining fifteen they used for other things they couldn't previously afford for everyday life. Since Rose was going to be moving out to live closer to campus, Jackie decided to stay in her flat at the Powell Estate.

During the past four years, Rose had busied herself with school, keeping her head stuck in book after book, studying long and hard. She knew that, had it not been for her grandfather's financial help and the aide of a mentor just after her GCSE's, she would never have made it this far. Sarah Jane Smith, an ex-investigative reporter, was doing research on the education system of Rose's home area. The older woman had involved herself as she always did with every story she worked on: meticulously and thoroughly. Sarah Jane had been Rose's greatest asset and still remained as such. Maybe a talk with her would be in order…

With that, her thoughts turned to John Smith and a blush made its way up her cheeks. The past two weeks, she'd been trying to work up the courage to tell him about Halloween night, but she hadn't seen him at all except when walking through campus in a hurry. Quick hellos and smiles were all they managed to exchange before they ran to their next destinations. Last night, she'd had a dream that she had finally told him _everything_ : about Halloween and about how she felt for him, but his face had been an expressionless mask and she'd quickly taken it back. She feared that that was exactly how it'd go, except maybe with a lot more stammering, on both sides, and she would never, _never_ take back her feelings for him.

Rose was startled out of her thoughts when she heard the rustling of her classmates as they started packing up. A look at the clock and she realised that it was the end of class and she'd spent the last forty-five minutes mentally wandering off. Cursing internally, she got her things together and asked Ace McShane, a close schoolmate of hers if she could e-mail her her notes. With a thanks, Rose left to go meet up with her friends.

As Ace wondered at the oddity of the blonde's request (being one of the most diligent students, Ace often came to _Rose_ for help, though she was happy to return the favour), Rose hurried across campus and remembered the time she first met her new group of friends.

\----

_Rose's study group had just left and she couldn't help but sigh as she looked outside. It was a beautiful spring day and she was stuck in the crowded library. Her classmates had invited her to go with them, but she'd said she had more studying to do. They'd shrugged and left; Rose realised they had expected her to say no. The irony wasn't lost on her. Once upon a time, she would have gladly ditched schoolwork for a good time, but life had taught her not everything was fun and games._

" _Excuse me, may I sit here?"_

_Rose looked up to see a thin male with a pointed nose set on a narrow face. His short, brown hair lay flat on his head and his dark, green eyes expressed tiredness from all the reading he must be doing for exams. She smiled and nodded._

_He sighed in relief, dropping his books and bag down, and muttered to himself. Rose flinched inwardly at the sound of rustling papers, but otherwise ignored him. It wasn't until she heard him chuckle about an hour and a half later that she looked up. He was smiling down at his mobile._

_Seeing her watch him, he blushed. "Sorry, it's just my girlfriend. Texting me to make sure I eat."_

_At this, she smiled, much more warmly than she first had. "That's nice of her. She must really care about you."_

" _Amy loves me," he stated, matter-of-fact, and she would have thought that a declaration like that would sound completely egotistical, but he said it with such surety, that she knew there was no question about it. "And I love her. We look out for each other. Always have, ever since we were kids. Well, us and our friend, John."_

" _Childhood sweethearts?" Rose asked, curious._

" _Yeah." He smiled goofily and she couldn't help but giggle at his adorable expression. "I'm Rory, by the way, Rory Williams."_

_She grinned. "Rose Tyler."_

" _Pleased to meet you, Rose."_

" _Same."_

_After another half an hour of silence had gone by, she heard Rory start to pack his things._

" _Better go meet up with Amy and eat. Don't want her breathing down my neck later if I skip dinner." He'd just put away his netbook when he looked back up. "Do you want to come?"_

_Biting her lip, she looked down at her textbooks for a second. She'd been working all day and hadn't really given herself a break. In the end, her biology decided it for her as her stomach grumbled loudly. The two new acquaintances laughed. "Sure," she finally agreed. Packing up her things, she followed Rory to a courtyard on the west side of campus where she then met his 'wonderful girlfriend', as he'd called her._

_Gorgeous was what Rose would call Amy Pond. The fact that Rory hadn't mentioned how gorgeous the tall, redheaded woman was, said a lot about their relationship. Long-legged and fierce were something she quickly decided Amy was as well. Where Rory was quieter, Amy was louder. She was very upfront and wanted to know who Rose was the minute she showed up with her boyfriend. Subtle Amy was not, but Rose met Amy's assertiveness with her own stubbornness and let it be known that she was_ not _after Rory._

_Hazel eyes narrowed while whiskey-brown simply stared. A smile broke out on the ginger's face about a minute later and she nodded. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's eat." She gestured at the abundance of food she'd laid out at the table._

_Somewhere between her first and second sandwich, Rose inquired, "Do you always pack up this much food for just the two of you or does studying work up that much of an appetite?" Her tongue poked out and Amy commented on how adorable she looked which made her blush._

" _Remember I mentioned our friend, John?" Rory answered. At her nod, he continued, "Well, he sometimes meets up with us, but it looks like he lost track of time. Again."_

" _He's going to work himself to death, he is," Amy grumbled._

_Rose continued to eat her sandwich in silence as the couple argued over what to do with their friend._

\----

_Two weeks after she had met Rory and Amy, Rose was heading towards the bus terminals. She had a meeting with one of the local electronic firms for a research project and hoped to complete it by the end of the week. The semester was drawing to a close so she'd promised her two new friends they'd go celebrate next week._

_Suddenly, Rose was rushing towards the ground. Eyes wide, she thrust her arms forward to catch herself, something behind pushing her. She shut her eyes, knowing that it was going to hurt, and gasped when her body was twisted around out of nowhere._

_A loud "oomph!" escaped her as her back hit a strong, but pliable, surface. Whatever she had landed on was definitely not concrete. Blinking repeatedly she forced her brain to catch up with what had just happened. Rose finally noticed there was a pair of arms wrapped around her, holding her close, and a hard, bony_ something _pressing against the top of her head._

_Twisting around, she came face to face with the brightest green eyes she'd ever seen. They looked a bit world-weary, but there was also a spark there that revealed life and love and a cheeriness about them that made her smile. "Hello."_

_Green eyes disappeared behind eyelids and she looked at the light lashes before they rose up again, distracting her with the brilliant colour that'd captivated her. "Hello." She felt the voice rumble from below and finally realised she was laying on top of him._

" _I'm sorry!" Rose pushed herself up and almost lost her balance when she stood. A hand on her back steadied her and she wondered how he'd gotten up so quickly._

" _No! No, no, no. Don't say you're sorry. It was my fault, really. I wasn't looking where I was going. It's just, I'm late for class and-" The hand that had aided her in keeping her equilibrium disappeared as he gestured with both arms and she had to shake off the feeling of missing his fingers on her._

" _It's alright, I was just daydreaming and I should have been walking faster. I really need to get going as I'm late for a meeting." She bent down to start collecting her stuff and saw him do the same from the corner of her eye._

" _Shall we get going then?" A manic grin spread across his face and Rose couldn't help but grin back just as widely._

" _Where-?" Before she could even begin her question, long fingers wrapped around her shorter ones and tugged her forward, running towards the south end of campus. 'Well, at least we're headed the same way.' She just hoped she wouldn't trip with her heels on; the blisters were already inevitable. Instead of continuing on through the ground level, he brought her to the maths building, taking the stairs up to the second floor._

_They were just outside a classroom when he exclaimed, "Oh!" as he looked down at their linked hands before his gaze trailed up her arm and to her face. "Sorry! I didn't mean to… I just. Oh dear." He was completely flustered and she found it utterly adorable._

" _It's okay." She smiled. "I was heading this way too, sort of. Have to head down to the bus terminal to get to my meeting…" Checking her watch, she sighed in relief; she still had plenty of time to make it._

" _Are you going to be late?" he asked worriedly._

" _No." She shook her head. "Still have some time, but I better get going. Never know how traffic will be._

" _Quite right. Always have to expect the unexpected. Well, not_ always _obviously, or else life would be quite boring without prodigious events, but in this case, it's better safe than sorry. Right?"_

_Rose felt her face contort in bemusement and she was sure it was quite obvious as he quickly reddened further and stuck his hand out._

" _John Smith, by the way, Professor John Smith."_

_She blinked. "Oh! I'm Rose, Rose Tyler." She took his hand and was about to shake it, when he lifted it up and brought it to his mouth for a kiss on her knuckles._

" _It's very nice to meet you, Rose Tyler."_

_The way her named rolled out his lips made her shiver pleasantly. But it was his smile that warmed her all over, as if she was walking into a fire and she never wanted to get out, as long as he was by her side. "It's nice to meet you too, Professor."_

_Silence filled the air when neither moved, her hand still in his. It wasn't until the classroom door opened that they jumped apart._

" _Professor Smith!" A guilty student burst out. "We thought you weren't coming, sir, and we just…"_

" _Sorry Latimer, it was my fault. Don't worry. Just let everyone know I'm here and I'll be in soon, alright?"_

" _Yes, sir." With that Latimer quickly went back in._

" _I'm sorry, Ms Tyler, I really must get to my students before they start a protest at having such a short class on a Friday." He winked and she laughed._

" _Of course, I really should get going before something… unexpected happens."_

" _Exactly."_

_They continued to smile at one another before Rose finally shook her head and started backing away. "Good day, Professor John Smith."_

_She left before she could hear his answer and, as such, also missed him mutter under his breath, "I think the unexpected has already occurred."_


	3. Only in Dreams

John had never been one to ask for much, but was it _too_ much to ask for a break? All he wanted to know was the identity of the woman who had kissed him a week ago. He'd had little luck.

In what he thought had been a stroke of genius, he had secretly rallied the help of his students by making a class assignment based on how many costumes they had seen people wear or were wearing themselves. For every class he had that week, he gave the same assignment, but had come up empty. Until his last class.

He had already dismissed the class when he heard a couple of his straggling students talk excitedly about today's assignment. 'At least they enjoyed it,' he thought absentmindedly until he heard the mention of "pink chucks".

"That's an awful choice of shoes for a Red Riding Hood costume!"

"Yeah, I thought so too, but the actual costume? So awesome. It looked very authentic."

"What was up with the mask, though?"

"No idea."

"Maybe she was a shy first year? You know how intimidating those parties can be. Stupid Dennis trying to haul me for a shag."

"You sure showed him, though."

"Hell yeah…"

Their voices finally faded as they exited the class, leaving a mulling professor behind.

John sighed and buried his face in his hands, one pushing his hair off his forehead, the bangs of his dark brown hair simply fluttering back over and he peered at the tips. 'Might be time for a trim,' he thought, trying to forget about what he'd heard, the last week, _everything_.

What was he even doing? Obsessing over this girl like some kind of stalker! He might not be a 'lady's man' (though Amy argued otherwise), but he wasn't so desperate to be with someone who had simply kissed him and run, was he?

The problem was that this had been _different_ somehow. He didn't know how to explain it, but the way he had felt around her… it was quite similar to the way he felt around… 'No,' he shook his head. 'Don't go down that road.' It was too late, though. Grumbling, he headed home.

Since the day he had met the beautiful, blonde Rose Tyler, his life had changed. Oh, his routine was very much the same. He went to class, taught, had lunch with his friends and at times, when he was left alone with Rose, chips. Then he arrived at his flat alone, he slept alone, showered alone… While he was tired of it, he didn't do anything about it. However, his life had become… brighter. When he had first crashed into Rose, it had been a wonderfully unexpected turn of events and it didn't stop there. It turned out, his childhood friends knew Rose. They'd only been hanging out for a couple of weeks, but he was amazed at how well they got on. It was as if they'd known each other for years and when John finally joined them one day, surprising Amy and Rory when they found out John and Rose knew each other, he slipped seamlessly in.

Just hearing Rose's laughter, watching the tip of her tongue slip between her teeth when someone said something particularly funny, seeing her eyes light up, looking at her concentrate on one of her textbooks, talking with their friends. He knew he had never met anyone like her and he believed he'd be hard-pressed to find anyone like her ever again.

Oh, he'd tried, of course. He was a young, healthy twenty-seven year old who believed in something so deep and true that, as a younger man, he had tried. He'd loved before. He'd tried so hard to find that _something_ , that _someone_ to share himself with completely. Maybe it was a bit of an odd concept in this day and age, but he couldn't help how he'd been raised and how his brain had processed the information.

There had been Jabe Willows while he was working on his master's. She was studying what he affectionately called 'herbology' but was really horticulture. She had been a beautiful woman who was not afraid of getting her hands dirty and she had a fondness for adventure.

They'd only been dating a few months when she'd gone on a trip with her class to the Amazon Rainforest, a huge privilege. Her class had worked hard to fund-raise for the trip to South America. It was a great tragedy when the area she and her classmates had been exploring caught fire. Jabe, along with three other students, had perished.

John had been devastated and guilt ate through him all the more when he'd been contacted by her older brother. Apparently, his girlfriend had spoken quite highly of him and John had been invited to her funeral. He hadn't gone, of course. He had planned to break things off with Jabe as soon as she came back from her trip and her death ate at him. It'd taken him well over a year before he could even think about dating again.

During that year of self-ostracism, a sweet second year student in the maths department had attached herself to him. Lynda-with-a-y Moss was a good friend, but he hadn't been ready to see anyone and she soon moved on. He saw her go through jerk after jerk until he finally stepped in and helped stage a sort of intervention. She got herself together, even if she resisted his help at the beginning. Lynda sought counselling and eventually went back home to try and apply to a different university. With a kiss on John's cheek, Lynda bid him farewell.

Poised and elegant Reinette Poisson set her eyes (and almost her claws) on John next. She had approached him when he had intervened between Lynda and her last boyfriend, Dallan something-or-other. Reinette, at that point, had also set her sights on Dallan, a frat boy, as the Americans would call him.

At first, Reinette had worked to his benefit. The older, more experienced blonde could take care of herself better than the innocent Lynda could. However, once Lynda had taken it upon herself and stood up against Dallan, Reinette had admired John and his loyalty to his friends. After Reinette had fun with Dallan, she had given him a taste of his own medicine and had played him expertly, like a seasoned violinist, before dropping him quick.

John had _almost_ been tempted to give into her advances, but even he had more dignity than that. He refused to be another notch on Reinette's bedpost. If he would ever be with someone, it would be because he loved her.

Before them, there was his first, Romana Trelundar. She had been a fellow young genius who had entered the program at the University at the same time he had at merely thirteen and a half years old. He had loved her, mind and body. Once she'd turned sixteen and been emancipated, they had given themselves to each other. However, he soon realised that he wasn't _in_ love with her. They seemed the perfect pair, but each had different goals and dreams. Once Romana had received her bachelor's, she transferred to a university in Ireland to continue her studies.

They promised to stay friends and keep in contact, but he soon stopped hearing from her. It's like she'd disappeared off the face of the Earth. It was a few months later he'd met Jabe.

After finally shaking off Reinette (really, she'd just grown bored of chasing him and fished herself the self-proclaimed King Louis, a rich boy from France), a professor from anthropology had asked him out.

Professor River Song was attractive enough, but honestly, she made him more uncomfortable than Reinette ever had. At least Reinette was clear with her intentions. River would flirt excessively with him one moment and offend him the next. It grew tiresome fast and he ended things before their second date could even take place.

Nurse Joan Redfern was another who made him uneasy. He'd gone to the campus clinic a few times, usually accompanying a first year student, but he'd run into her a few times outside of it. He had no problem with dating older women (River and Jabe were examples of that), but she was very… pushy. Always hinted at her availability and brought up her deceased husband as often as possible. It was obvious her dear Oliver had been her true love.

That's exactly what John wanted. He didn't want a mere fling or to go through as many women as possible before settling down. The problem, of course, was that he never put himself _out there_. He was a coward, as Amy cheerfully reminded him frequently. After Jabe, he had more or less withdrawn. He had basically buried himself in work, barely even giving his friends the time of day.

He hadn't meant to, but the guilt had overwhelmed him. The women who sought his attention weren't right either, however. If he didn't try, though, how would he ever find the woman who was right for _him_?

John had always been an odd one. He guessed believing in true love in this day and age probably was strange. He truly believed there was someone out there for everyone. Maybe not in the 'soul mates' sense, because he thought loving only one person ever could just lead to a life of misery and pain (he thought of Nurse Redfern here), but people who complimented each other. He didn't know _how_ he knew the woman dressed as Little Red was someone who could complete him, but he did. Maybe he'd been waiting too long and was delusional. Sighing, he shut his eyes as he lay in bed and dreamed.

\----

_It was dark, but even with all the people there he weaved through the crowd seamlessly. In the dead centre of the room, there was a woman in red, her back turned to him. He held in a breath as he approached her, chest still expanded even as she turned to him when he touched her shoulder. A mask covered her beautiful face and he wanted to snatch it off, to explore every inch of her cheeks, her temples, her forehead, chin, jaw, and lips. Her lips might be completely bare to him, but it wasn't fair to take without having_ all _of her. Instead of doing what his body called out for him to do, he bowed before her and asked her for a dance._

_Full lips spread into a smile and she accepted. There wasn't an inch of space between them as they swayed, turned, and twirled to the music. They were_ so _close, but at the same time it wasn't enough. There was an unspeakable distance between them that made his heart ache. As he brought her back up after a dip, she suddenly stiffened, like she knew what he was thinking. She pushed him away and stared into his eyes. He tried to decipher their colour, but before he could look or say anything, she broke away from his embrace and ran._

_This time he wasn't going to let her get away. He had waited too long for her. He ran, breaking through the crowd until he made his way outside._

_At first, he thought he'd lost her. His head jerked every which way and he couldn't see her. His heart clenched, hurt flooding him until, from the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of red. Swerving his body, he'd changed directions so quickly he almost crashed into someone. Shouting a quick apology, he continued on. He pushed himself to go faster and, just when he thought he was about to catch her, his hand already out to reach for her, he missed her entirely. He'd leaned his weight forward so much that he ended up unbalanced and fell to the ground. Pain shot up his arms when he landed and, if it weren't for his hands, already out, his face would have crashed with them. Instead, he whipped his head up and just caught sight of her turning. His eyes widened as her mask fluttered off-_

John shot up, breathing ragged, chest expanding and contracting, feeling as if he'd just run a marathon. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and he wiped it with the back of his arm, before wrinkling his face in disgust and peeling off his shirt instead and wiping himself off with it. Looking outside, he noticed it was still quite late. He got up and stepped out onto his balcony, looking up at the moon and wishing that somehow it would whisper all its secrets. Maybe the satellite glowing from borrowed light and the twinkling stars knew who Little Red was. Maybe it _was_ Rose. He scoffed and shook his head, but before heading back in, he looked at the moon one last time and wished, 'Please, please let her know I'm looking for her, that I _do_ want her.'

\----

"John, are you alright?"

The maths professor looked up from the food he'd been sliding around his plate to his mate. Instead of lying to Rory, he shrugged.

"Look…" He heard the hesitation before Rory continued, "I'm sure we'll find her, alright? Don't give up hope."

"It's already been three weeks, Rory. You and Amy have been a great help and I've tried to find out on my own as well as I can without coming off like a creepy bastard to my students, but… If she doesn't want to be found, then there's nothing I can do, is there? Not like I can put up fliers that say 'Lost Love of Life, Dressed as Little Red, Please Call if Found' all over campus, can I? If she really wanted me, she could have found me too. True love's not supposed to be a one-sided thing. Besides, I'd had too much to drink that night anyway. I probably just imagined things."

Rory watched his friend helplessly, wondering what to say. Before he could think of anything, however, he brightened as he saw who approached them.

"Hello, Rory, Giraffe." Amy sat next to her boyfriend and gave him a kiss before turning to her sulking friend. "What's wrong with dreary over here?"

"Amy, don't be so callous," Rose chimed in. She took a seat next to the upset man and placed her hand on the back of his for a second before drawing away. "Are you alright?"

John's head came up as soon as he felt her presence and he stared into her beautiful honey eyes that, when caught by the light, looked like they had specks of gold in them. "Fine," he squeaked and laughed shortly. "Just fine."

"Good." The redhead took a breath. "Now that we're all here, Rory and I have an announcement to make," she said matter-of-factly. She looked at her partner, a wide smile spreading across her face.

"I asked Amy to marry me last week." Rory blushed, holding on tight to her hand.

The pair across from them gawked for a second before twin grins broke out and they let out several words of congratulations. The two were so excited they forgot about their misery, lost in discussion of the big day, the women squealing over Amy's gorgeous _vintage_ ring, and John teasing Rory how it was about time.


	4. Taste the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE apologies to my dear, lovely readers. I know I took two weeks off, but life was crazy, Nano took up a lot of my time (but I made a little over 50,000 words!), and then Thanksgiving. They're not excuses, just reasons as to why I took so long. I hope to go back to my regularly scheduled updates of Thursdays. Thank you for being so patient. And thank you [Fogs](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fogsblue) for being such a patient beta.

Since Amy and Rory were almost done with their masters' they'd decided to wait and have a fall wedding. While Rory wanted one in August, Amy preferred sometime in October, so they'd finally settled for mid-September, the second Saturday of the month. Since Amy was always one to be prepared for anything, she wanted to get plans started right away. Enlisting the help of their friends, the couple had a lot less to worry about. They also hoped that the two idiots (in Amy's opinion, though Rory silently agreed) would figure out how wonderful they were for each other.

The holidays were coming up and term finals with them. Instead of studying, as Rose would usually be doing on a Wednesday evening, she was laughing at John's face as he tried the raspberry turnover and resisting the urge to say, "I told you so".

"Okay, so Amelia and Rory want a September wedding, so I'll call the locations they gave me tomorrow, during my lunch break, about prices so we can get one of the major financial consumers out of the way." He looked over his notes after he'd spat out a piece of the turnover on a napkin. They were at one of the two cafes on campus. Sadly enough, this was the one that made the worst banana nut muffins in the history of Earth (according to John), so he'd gone with the raspberry pastry even though she'd warned him that it wasn't much better.

She bit into a salt and vinegar crisp, reached into her bag for one more, and took a sip from her thermal, letting her lemon tea wash it down. "Hate to break it to you, John, but _everything_ in a wedding is a major financial consumer. And Amy would be furious if she heard you calling her that."

"But she's not here to hear, is she? And you wouldn't tell her, would you Rose?"

Rose's heart stuttered at his adorable, pleading expression. She hadn't felt like this for someone in… well, ever really. Sure, she'd had her crushes, puppy love, and a boyfriend or two, dated casually even, but it was never like _this_. She always fancied herself an independent woman who had learned from the best: her mother.

Jackie may have had several men in her life, but she had _never_ let them dictate her life and Rose had taken that to heart. So, when she was sixteen, and had had that no-good boyfriend of hers, Jimmy Stone, and he'd tried to control her time with her friends, what she ate, how she dressed, she'd dumped his arse faster than a bullet train. He'd tried to get back at her for it by dating an old friend of hers to make her jealous, but she'd simply ignored him. It was hard, there was no doubt about that. She'd thought she was in love, but with the help of Sarah Jane, she'd put her focus on something much more important: herself. She focused on her education and her life. With the funding by her grandfather, she had been given an opportunity that most people from the Estate never got and she was not going to let it go to waste.

Now, she only had about seven months left and she'd receive her bachelor's, with a stipend for a masters within her grasp. Could she really hope to accomplish her goals with a distraction such as John?

Oh, but John wasn't just _any_ distraction. Glancing at him, she noticed his head move quickly down. "No," she finally said, breaking the silence. "No, I wouldn't."

He gave her a quirky smile before continuing to jot down what she was sure were various numbers, as he tried to find the best estimate to keep within their friends' budget.

Rose and John had, of course, volunteered to help Amy and Rory plan the wedding. While the engaged couple worked on the basics of a monetary limitation (which they had given John) and invitations, Rose was in charge of design and wardrobe. At first, Rose had worked on her own, looking for arrangements and decorations, until she realised she wasn't sure where it would be. What if she chose the wrong colour scheme for the locale? She'd fretted for a day or so until she finally worked up the courage to approach John.

" _Professor, don't you think it'd be more beneficial if we worked together?" Rose had tried her best to sound as professional as she could, but at his "uhhh" and stuttering, she couldn't help but giggle, her tongue poking out as she smiled at him. "Better with two, yeah?"_

_At that, he'd enthusiastically agreed. "Yes, but only if you call me John. None of this 'Professor' nonsense. We're almost the same age, after all, and I'm not_ your _professor," he'd finished sternly before breaking out into a smile._

" _It's a deal." They shook hands. "John."_

" _Rose."_

"Rose… Rose!"

Rose startled out of her thoughts, shaking her head before turning her attention on him. "I'm sorry, John; spaced out for a while there."

"It's alright, been known to do that myself."

They shared a smile before he frowned.

"I've enjoyed spending time with you immensely, Rose, but I should go. It's quite late already and I have a morning class. Not that I sleep much, but I should let you rest."

"Oh…" She really didn't want him to go, but he was right. She had already spent all day with only a couple of hours of study time for _five_ classes. She should break out the books for at least an hour before heading back to her dorm. "Of course." This time her smile was a bit forced as she watched him back up everything.

"I'm sure by tomorrow I'll have everything in order. You'll let me know if the floral arrangements will be set?"

"Yeah, I will." She hesitated for a few seconds before she finally inquired, "Same time tomorrow?" Working with him made her feel… she didn't want to say 'complete'. It would sound so cheesy, but she felt _better_ around him. Less alone. She didn't want it to end.

Apparently, neither did he. "Yes!" He beamed, as if not working with her had never even occurred to him. "Is my place alright, this time? Only, I have a bit of work to do and I'm not sure if I'll be able to drag it all here. Though I suppose I could…" His brow furrowed in concentration, as if he were calculating the exact weight of everything, adding the five, and carrying the three over. He probably was.

"Your place is fine," she reassured.

"Great! I'll see you then."

"See you."

"Umm… Rose?"

"Yes, Prof- John?"

"Aren't you going to go home as well? It's late, and I don't think I'd feel right unless I knew you were back at your flat, safe and sound." He looked so earnest her heart swelled. Damn this man for making her fall in love with him that little bit more.

"Are you going to walk me home?" She grinned, tongue peeking out.

"What sort of gentleman would I be if I didn't?" With a flourish and bow, he extended an arm which made her laugh out loud. Collecting her things quickly, she looped her arm in his and they made their way across campus.

Once they reached her place, they said their goodnights and Rose locked her door, sighing. She looked around her small, and messy, empty flat. She got ready for bed and dropped down on her bed, burying her face in her pillow and trying to drown out thoughts of him. It didn't work in the slightest. She thought about him well into the night and he starred in the dreams that lingered even when morning came.

\----

The next evening Rose stood outside the door to John's flat, nervously moving her weight from one foot to the other. She didn't know why she was so antsy. It wasn't like she hadn't spent time with the man in the months since she'd met him. She was a mature woman who could control herself. Plus, if she didn't, she would make a fool of herself, which kept her at bay.

Finally, she worked up the courage and knocked. Almost immediately, she heard a shout and a bang, along with some curses, followed by a loud, "Coming!"

A few seconds later, John appeared at the door, rubbing the top of his head. Somehow, she felt more at ease than she'd ever felt with him and she's determined to tell him who she is.

"Hi Rose!"

"Hello!"

They stayed staring at one another for almost a full minute before John's eyes widened. Just as she was going to ask what was wrong, he stuttered out, "Oh! I- uh, co-come in, y-yeah?"

"Right!" She blushed, unable to believe she hadn't even noticed they were simply standing around. "Thanks." Entering, she blinked, surprised when she saw what looked like a mini-banquet set out on a small table.

"Thought you might be hungry after your classes and our bodies must be fed if we hope for them to keep up with us. Not to mention, it helps our thinking process and there's still a lot to get done. I wasn't quite sure what you'd like, but since I've seen what you eat, during the past few months, I took a guess and thought you'd like Chinese. I wasn't a hundred per cent sure what you'd like, though, so I got a little of everything…"

The urge to kiss him assaulted her rapidly and she had to tamper it down just as quickly. He was too much, this was too much. She had to tell him. "John, I-" Rose was cut off when her stomach rumbled loud enough for him to hear it in the small flat.

"Sit! Tea should be done soon." He glanced into the small kitchenette where his electric kettle was still heating away. He took her things and settled them carefully on his desk and beamed at her. He went to get the kettle that was finally whistling its completion. She sat down gingerly and was about to serve them both on separate foam plates when she heard a yelp. Shaking her head in amusement, she went to see what she could do to help

Finally settling down to tuck in after running John's fingers under cold water, the two are silent for quite some time until Rose finally breaks it.

"Did you call the venues Rory and Amy were looking into?"

A muffled "Yes" sounded between bites, before he finally swallowed and apologised for his rude behaviour. "I've narrowed it down to two: Middle Temple and BMA House. Their prices are vastly different, on scale, with Middle Temple being more extravagant, but appropriate for the small number of people they want to invite. Though BMA is larger in size, they're willing to keep their current special if there are a minimum number of people coming. I just need to confirm with them by the end of the week the exact number. Middle Temple's more expensive in venue, but their catering is more affordable, so it's practically balanced, really." He waved his chopsticks in the air for emphasis.

Rose couldn't help but laugh at his rambling. It was quite obvious how excited he was for his friends' upcoming nuptials. "Well, I found a couple of places that we can get flowers from, and Amy asked me to look at some fabrics for her. Depending on which venue they choose, I'll pick a colour scheme of the decorations from there." She showed him some numbers once they were done with their meal.

John and Rose cleared up the table before spreading out the brochures they had each printed from the internet. They ooh-ed and aw-ed at each other's selections and, while they agreed on most things, John pointed out that Amy would probably prefer sunflowers to daisies. Rose suggested that he make an appointment for the couple to look at both venues next week, instead of just looking at the printed pages.

"There's an atmosphere you can only get when you experience something first hand."

Agreeing, he made a note to do so the next day. After tossing each other a few more ideas, they began talking about themselves.

"So why business?" John inquired.

Rose shrugged. "It's what my A-levels pointed to and I know it's the field in which I'll always be able to move up and be financially secure." She then went on to tell him about her time growing up at the Powell Estate with her mum, her father's early demise, her grandfather leaving her the means to attend university, and her brilliant mentor who had so much faith in her.

"I don't I think I'd have been able to accomplish half the things that I have if it weren't for Sarah Jane. She helped me out so much; I'll never be able to repay her for it."

"Being here is payment enough, I should think." He smiled warmly and she returned the gesture.

"I've worked long and hard to be here. I was just lucky enough that my grandfather set his grudge against my dad aside to leave me with something. I've taken every job I could get in order to continue, so I won't have to touch what I've put aside. Thanks to that, I don't have to work and study full-time. Just focus on my final year and apply to internships. There's one I'm really hoping to get that's in New York. Though there's also one in Edinburgh and right here in London. I've already sent my applications; it's just a matter of waiting for their replies. My focus right now is on exams and final projects. Spend the holidays with mum. Maybe take her on a small vacation before I really start the rest of my life."

"Sounds like you have everything planned out," he stated ruefully.

Rose shook her head. "Don't get me wrong, I know nothing ever comes out exactly as you plan, but I do have my goals in mind. I strive to be the best I can and that's all I can do."

"You already are the best, Rose Tyler."

There was no denying the affection in his voice, but instead of blurting out her feelings to him, she changed the subject. "What about you? I mean, Amy told me about Geeky, Young, Boy Genius before we met, but what made you decide teaching?"

He sulked a little before he smiled brightly. "I love teaching! I had so many plans when I was younger, becoming a zookeeper, an astronaut, a scientist, but teaching never crossed my mind until I assisted Professor Higson."

"He was the professor before you, right?"

He nodded. "I didn't know what to say at first, didn't think it was for me, but he told me to try it for a while and it just stuck. All these minds to fill with information, to prepare for the world out there? It's the best feeling in the world. Well," he corrected himself, "second best."

"What's the first?" she asked curiously.

He looked at her for a moment, mumbled something and then looked down at his hands.

Instead of asking him to repeat himself, she touched the back of his fingers gently and brightened when he turned his hand, entwining their digits. Warmth spread throughout her being and her breath stilled. They were a perfect fit, his long, sturdy fingers fitting right between her shorter, slim ones. The tips, she felt on the back of her hand, were calloused, probably from writing relentlessly, grading papers, skimming through textbooks. Hers would be about the same if she didn't moisturise, she thought absent-mindedly, trying to ignore the slow heat that had gathered low in her belly.

"Would you like to see?"

"Sorry?" Rose brought her attention from their connected hands back to his face.

"The best feeling."

"If you're willing to share," she said carefully.

"Come on then!" He tugged her up gently. "And close your eyes," he turned to tell her, sternly.

She opened her mouth to question him, but at his wagging finger, she pressed her lips together and did as she was told. Something told her it would be worth it, though she'd certainly get him back for this. Before she could think of a proper comeback she shivered as she felt cool air on her skin. His free hand came to rub at her arm for a bit before it came up to tilt her head up.

"Alright, open them," he whispered into her ear and she shivered again, for a different reason entirely this time.

"Oh! I love it." She twirled around a little as she gazed up at the night sky. London was an awful place for stargazing, but there were just enough small suns that gleamed through the blanket of black onto the city. 'John's balcony must be the perfect place for this,' she thought dreamily. With a content sigh, she brought her head back to level and caught sight of green eyes staring at her intensely. Heart rate skyrocketing, she was hypnotised by the depth of feelings she could easily read in them.

Oh, this wasn't fair. How was she going to resist? The obvious answer was that she wasn't. She leaned in closer to him, stilling when she realised he wasn't moving. A feeling of dread started creeping in on her until she heard him groan helplessly, his hand letting go of hers to press on her lower back, the other burying itself into her hair. He tilted her head in, what she would swear was the perfect angle. When his lips touched hers, the spark that had begun on Halloween night threatened to consume her. Her hands gripped his shoulders firmly, moving her lips against his and unable to help the whimper that escaped her.

Feeling something hard on her back, she took note in her hazy mind that he must have pressed her against the balcony's railing. Uncaring, she took control of the kiss and swiped her tongue against his thin lips, humming happily at his immediate response to open up to her exploration. Though, her back wasn't the only place she felt something hard. She resisted the urge to rub against him, however, and broke away after a few more sucks and nips.

"Third best, then," he whispered across her lips.

"What's that?" Coherent thought was quite difficult to manage right now, but she wanted to know what he meant.

"Teaching is now the third best feeling in the world."

"What's the second, then?"

"The stars, of course." He lifted a hand up to gesture at the sky.

"I thought they were the first."

"No." He shook his head emphatically. "This is." He pressed his lips against hers one more time, his fingers trailing her sides, before he took a step back. "Well, Miss Tyler, it's gotten quite late again."

"As time is wont to do," she teased.

"Correct. May I walk you home?" Mimicking the same gesture as the night before, he bowed and extended his arm.

"It would be my pleasure to have your company, sir." Rose grinned.

"The pleasure is all mine." He looked at her, eyes burning, and she was aflame under the intensity of his stare.

Exhaling sharply, she gathered her wits, and book bag, before exiting his flat. If she didn't, who knew what she'd be capable of? On their way to hers, with the stars above accompanying them on their walk, she swore she would tell him about Halloween soon. Before anything else happened.


	5. Bet it on the Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drunken shenanigans ahoy! But mostly, I wanna kill you all with fluff. And maybe tease you a little. (Also, I AM SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG. THE MUSE IS A FICKLE BITCH.)
> 
> Many, many thanks to Fogs for her brilliant beta'ing and thanks so much to those who continued to encourage me to write this. You know who you are!

As the weekend approached, there were three flower shops, two fabric stores, and five bakeries Rose wanted to visit. For all of John's whinging as to why there were so many places to visit, he happily volunteered to join her. Though they hadn't spoken of what had happened in his flat a few days ago, they had eased into a sort of harmony. Not quite together, but not _not_ together. It didn't make sense in his mind and he wondered why he was even trying. All that mattered was they just _were_.

John blatantly watched Rose as she walked through the grove of the third flower shop. It had a small greenhouse in the back that was perfect for spring and summertime flora. Right outside it were the autumn festive flowers. He looked as she hovered over some to smell them, smiling at most and shaking her head at others. She spoke with the florist to confirm which flowers would be readily available for September. Sunflowers were definitely on the table and they seemed to be the most reasonably priced. So now it was just a matter of finding the perfect arrangement.

She browsed through the white flowers and contemplated the ones with red-orange petals for a long time. He simply continued to observe her, tweed jacket off and resting on his crossed arms encased in light blue sleeves. He began fiddling with his deep blue bowtie as time stretched on, getting impatient until she would throw him a bright smile and he'd forget everything but her, surrounded by the beautiful splashes of colour. He grumbled and glared when a male assistant came up to Rose, tucking a pink baby rosebud behind her ear.

She thanked the man before turning back to him. Any jealousy he might have felt washed away when she aimed a wide grin at him before walking towards him, hand already reaching out for his. Fingers laced together, they walked out of the shop and promised to come back in an hour to see the arrangement made up of the flowers Rose had picked out. For now, it was lunchtime and he knew the perfect little café to take her to, just a couple of blocks down.

"Their banana nut muffins are _delicious_ ," he promised, turning around suddenly to tuck her hair behind her ear and impulsively leaning down to kiss her cheek.

He was rather smug when she blushed prettily and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, not even realising the rose bud had fallen to the ground.

\----

Finals were now only two weeks away. John had his students working hard so they'd be ready and he was working harder to get their exams finished on time. When the weekend came around again, it felt as if the week had passed in the blink of an eye. It was time for another break, he decided, rubbing the bridge of his nose and removing his glasses. He leaned back against his desk chair and stared at his laptop screen.

With no wedding plans to help with for the next couple of weeks, he just wanted to go out and spend some time with a certain blonde. Grinning, he saved the file he was working on and stood. Stretching his legs, he went to his dresser and picked a red bow tie, looped it through his collar, tied it expertly, and headed to Rose's flat.

As soon as John arrived, he wasted no time in knocking on her door. The grin that had taken over half his face once he'd decided to come faded when a frazzled-looking Rose answered the door. She was wearing pink sleep shorts, a purple vest, and a red zipper hoodie that was haphazardly thrown on. Her hair was in a messy bun and her thick-framed glasses, that he'd only seen her wear once in the short time they'd known each other, were askew. Her distress was obvious.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, foregoing any usual greeting as he stepped into the flat.

"I forgot I had an early final on Monday and I haven't studied at all!" She ran a hand through her bound hair and he winced when a finger got caught in a tangle and she tugged at the strands, breaking off a few.

It was clear she was aggravated with herself. Her entire living space looked like a bomb had gone off and John worried that she was only going to build up her stress level higher.

"Rose, you were studying just the other day! For _three_ hours, I might add, while I worked on correcting my students' last quizzes. Go on; go get ready while I tidy up a bit. It's past ten and I bet you haven't even had breakfast."

"John, I can't go out. Not today! I need to study," she argued. Of course she did. He knew school was very important to her and she'd gone through so much, and persevered, to be in the top ten per cent of her classes. He also knew that she didn't know when to give herself a break and he was not going to watch as she buried herself in work like he would do.

"It's _Saturday_ , Rose. You said we'd go do something." He tried not to whinge, truly he did, but before she could retort, he promised, "I'll help you out this evening and tomorrow, I swear. We can spend the whole day at the library if that's what you want. Or… I can just go back to my flat. I'm sure I'll find _something_ dull or tedious to do." He knew he was being a bit manipulative, but he could also tell that sitting around in her flat, buried in her books would get her nowhere. She needed a clear head and this wasn't going to do it for her.

Rose finally sighed. "Alright… I'll go get ready." She went to her bureau to get some clothing before entering the small en suite.

Shaking his head as he most definitely did _not_ imagine what she would look like underneath the shower head, all wet and naked, with her hair matted back and nipp… He firmly stopped himself right there before other _things_ would get noticeably firm and set to tidying the place. A clean desk made for a clear head, after all.

\----

They had been perusing the shelves of a used bookstore when John received a call from Amy.

"Yes, no problem, Amy. We'll be happy to." He paused. " _Yes_ , Amy. I know. We'll see you later, okay?" John ended the call and turned to Rose.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Apparently, there was a delay in Middle Temple's schedule so Rory and Amy are still in the middle of the tour. They must have provided some bubbly as an apology because Amy sounded more… giddy than annoyed, really." He made a face before continuing, "Anyway, that means they'll lose their appointment with the bakery and they were told there wouldn't be another opening until next month and they'll be immersed in their dissertations by then. Amy asked if we could go in their place. Said she'll call ahead to let them know the change of plan and 'You better bring us back _something_ , raggedy man'," he mocked.

Rose laughed. "Sounds great. At what time is it?"

"She said two pm which means…" He looked down at his watch and his eyes widened. "We've only got ten minutes! Are you taking that book?" He gestured at the old copy of Charles Dickens' _Oliver Twist_. When she nodded, he took her hand in one of his, stuffing the other into his pocket to retrieve his billfold. Grabbing ten quid, he skipped the line and left it on the counter. "Just taking this, okay?" He waved the hardcover at the cashier who simply gawked at him. "Keep the change!" he shouted over his shoulder as he dragged Rose out the bookstore at a run. To Rose he said, "Come on, I know a shortcut!"

Thankfully, _Hummingbird Bakery_ was only a few blocks away from their original location. When John and Rose arrived in front of the shop there was barely a minute to spare, but they stopped to catch their breaths.

Rose straightened up first and grinned. "That was quite a shortcut," she teased, adjusting her favourite navy, purple, and beige scarf so it was once again wrapped around her securely.

"That was a perfectly good shortcut." He sniffed, faking offense.

"Until we turned right on-"

"Are you Mr Smith and Ms Tyler?" a man asked them, appearing from within the bakery.

"Yes, that would be us." John stood up straight as well, swallowing against his dry throat. Maybe he shouldn't have made them run through that alley on Carlisle Street, though he'd been _certain_ it had been a through street.

He was about to grab Rose's hand in his when the man announced, "Oh, wonderful! Ms Pond said her wedding planner and his assistant would be here in her and Mr Williams' place."

John gaped at him and then turned to Rose who was equally surprised. He was going to _kill_ Amy. Before he could correct the man, however, he turned around and led them in.

As they followed him, Rose looped her arm through his and he almost pouted. He wanted her hand in his. "What was Amy thinking?" she whispered to him.

He scowled. "I'm not sure."

"Well, let's just go with it and have fun, yeah?" She fluttered her lashes at him.

"Sure." He sighed and mentally shook his head. There was no need to get upset over something as silly as a practical joke. They could easily set the record straight right now, but Rose wanted in on the joke and there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. Hmm, Rose as his assistant… That had possibilities. Before he could further ponder on the advantages of said position (and other types of positions they could try), his senses were immediately overwhelmed.

The shop was neat and pristinely organised, but it was also cheery and welcoming. On every available surface, there were displays of their top-selling confections. His mouth watered. John didn't have much of a sweet tooth, but not even the meanest scrooge could resist the temptations the shop had to offer, never mind him.

The two were led to a table where half a dozen different slices of _Hummingbird'_ s cakes had been laid out, along with a ceramic tea kettle and cups set. The host then introduced them to their personal waiter who drew their chairs out for them, first Rose, then John, and he lingered over him. He then began describing the types of cakes that had been served and the origin of the simple Earl Grey.

"If you need anything else, please let me know. I'm Cade and I'll be _serving_ you today." He winked and left, though John hardly noticed the departure.

He did hear Rose giggle, however, and looked up from the cakes. "What's so funny?"

"You didn't notice at all, did you?"

"Notice what?" He had no idea what she was talking about.

"Cade! He was flirting with you!" Rose laughed and served them tea.

He stared at her. "Who's Cade?"

"The waiter? He just left!"

 _Oh_. He hadn't been paying much attention. Wait. _Flirting_?! With _him_?! "You're kidding!"

"Nope. Believe me, I know flirting when I see it." She grinned his favourite tongue-in-teeth grin before she grabbed a fork, choosing a slice at random and moaning as she brought a piece of cake into her mouth.

He gawked, heart stuttering and a gulp reminded him that his mouth was still dry. John's hand shot out to grab his cup of tea, but he miscalculated the speed in which he reached for it and ended up tipping it forward instead, spilling tea everywhere. Cursing softly, he apologised grabbing the cloth napkin and stopping the liquid from spreading towards Rose. Another waiter came over and cleared off the table before wiping it down and returning the samples back to the now clean surface. Embarrassed, he refused to look at Rose until suddenly a fork showed up in his line of vision.

A small piece of cake lay there invitingly. Peeking up, he saw the beautiful woman sitting across from him smiling gently. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth and let the moist bread practically melt on his tongue, blending in perfectly with the frosting that covered it. He moaned. "That's fantastic!"

It was simple angel cake, but the smooth strawberry frosting combined to make a rich flavour. Sweet, but not too sweet, and surprisingly delicious despite its humble origins.

"It is, isn't it?" she agreed.

The rest of the time was spent feeding one another the rest of the cakes. There were two that were dismissed early because the frosting was much too thick and sweet.

By the time they'd finished, they were full of sugar and tea. Cade came back and with little effort, John had secured three slices for each three types of cake they'd selected. They were handed a long box in a bag and gave their thanks before leaving. He saw Rose reach out and his fingers twitched in anticipation. However, instead of grabbing his hand, she surprised him by wrapping her arm around his waist. He paused just inside the doors when she gripped his hip slightly before curling her thumb into his belt loop. He turned to her and watched as she looked back and winked at their waiter, realising the action was a claim. It made him giddy that she thought she even had to show such a proclamation. Raising his unoccupied arm, he placed it over her shoulders and when she turned to look back at him, he was left breathless.

The obvious affection in her eyes had his heart stuttering and it was then that he decided he would tell her how he truly felt about her. Maybe not now, but as soon as finals were over, when he knew he wouldn't be a distraction to her (more so than usual, anyway), he would tell her.

\----

John awoke to the sound of his alarm and he shot up, squinting at the digits of the clock, wondering why it was going off on a _Sunday_ of all days. Then his sleep-addled mind remembered and he began his preparations for the day. Last night, after accompanying Rose to her flat, as always, and promising her chips for tomorrow, he came home and realised that her, _their_ , favourite chippy would be closed at eight AM on Sunday. So, before heading home, he headed to the local grocers and bought a few ingredients. Once at his flat, he went online to look up a recipe and sent it to his mobile, hoping he wouldn't screw it up.

An hour after he'd awoken, he was taking a glass baking pan out of the oven and wasn't very careful. "Ow, ow, ow!" John exclaimed when he tried reaching for his ringing mobile at the same time. A finger slipped off the towel and ended up on the hot surface. Dropping the pan on the counter, he swiped at the small screen and answered the call. He ran his finger under cool water, remembering Rose doing the same the first day she was at his flat. The first time they kissed. "Good morning, granddad!"

"Well, well, isn't someone cheery today?" The older voice on the other end of the line chuckled.

John blushed. "How are you?" he asked, immediately changing the subject to the goings on in Leadworth. Though he knew this wouldn't deter his grandfather, he was determined to try. They also discussed John's classes before William Smith got to the heart of the matter.

"So, I was talking with dear Amelia the other day…"

John groaned as he packed away the containers in a knapsack. "Granddad, you know you shouldn't listen to everything Amy tells you."

"Oh, I know, but she seemed genuinely excited when she mentioned a special someone in your life." John could hear the eager anticipation in his voice and sighed in resignation.

"Her name is Rose. And…" He hesitated and, after a long pause, his grandfather must have realised he didn't want to talk about it yet. Though John knew, this wasn't the end of it.

After bidding his granddad farewell, John headed to the school library where Rose was waiting for him in one of the group conference rooms.

Although they weren't technically supposed to eat in there, when John arrived he ordered Rose to closer her eyes before taking out the containers and laying them out on the table.

"Are those…" She sniffed and he cleared his throat, signalling she could open her eyes. " _Chips_? But how did you? I mean, the chippy doesn't open until ten today." She checked her watch to confirm that it was barely nine in the morning.

"Well, I might have… I may have _made_ these. And they're not fried because I don't have a fryer in my flat, of course I don't. What would I do with one there? Though, chip-making would be the obvious answer. And fish. We, that is, _I_ , could get a fryer and we could make our own fish and chips if you'd like. But I baked these. Found a recipe online and tried my hand at it this morning. I hope they're…" He trailed off when she snatched one and took a bite, moaning appreciatively and looking at him like he'd just gifted her with a diamond ring.

Besides the chips, John had also made a proper fry-up. He smiled widely when she stood up and threw her arms around him.

Parting from him slightly, Rose looked up and his heart ached at the sparkle in her honey eyes. "No one's ever done something like this for me. Thank you."

He couldn't help himself. He closed the space between them, dipping down to press his lips gently to hers but keeping it chaste. He wanted more and he could tell she did too by the way her arms gripped his arms, but he knew if they got started now they would get nothing done. "I, uh, I brought vinegar and salt." John gestured at the knapsack and he didn't know where he got the self-control to pull away instead of pulling her back when she added a tip of tongue to her grin.

They looked at each other for a moment longer before finally sitting down and tucking in. She teased him about the small bottle of malt vinegar and he retorted that _everyone_ should have a portable bottle.

"I once went to a chippy that had _run out of vinegar_." He'd been horrified, to say the least, and he wasn't even as big a fan of vinegar as Rose was.

She looked aghast. "You have had some bad luck with restaurants and cafés, haven't you?"

John nodded solemnly and regaled her with a couple of more tales until they were done with everything he'd brought.

They finally began working and with John helping Rose study for her first final they were done within a couple of hours.

"Feeling better?" he asked as they packed up.

"Loads," she admitted. "I'm sorry about yesterday morning. I know I know this stuff, but I just panicked the night before and then-"

"Rose, you don't have to apologise. If anyone understands last minute jitters, it's me." He winked jokingly before his whole demeanour changed and suddenly he felt like an awkward teenager. "I… Rose, would you… I know you still have plenty of studying to do, but would you like to have lunch before I walk you back to your dorm?"

"I'd love to." She beamed.

"Awesome!" he exclaimed, then winced. "Don't ever let me say that again." He sulked when she laughed, but it immediately turned into a smile when she took her hand in his. He could definitely get used to more days like this.

\----

Amy laughed and John shared an amused look with Rory just as Rose came back with drinks and another two baskets of chips, setting them down on the table.

"What'd I miss?" she asked, looking around and squinting. "Where's my chair?"

That only made Amy laugh all the harder.

The four friends were gathered in a pub a way's away from the school campus. Although Rory, Amy, and Rose weren't his students, he'd still feel awkward if he ran into any of his students or co-workers while out with his friends. The past two weeks seemed to crawl by and John had barely seen Rose (and Rory and Amy, of course). They had, however, agreed earlier that they would meet at _Lupin Storm_ to celebrate the end of term. They wouldn't be seeing each other for the next two weeks as Rory and Amy would be staying in the middle of London while Rose went to visit her mum, and he'd be in Leadworth, celebrating Christmas with his grandfather.

When John had arrived, and realised he was the first to do so, he'd found a table for them and waited, his nerves beginning to get the better of him. Tonight was the night, he'd decided, to tell Rose how he felt about her. How much he cared for her and lo… He'd shaken his head and breathed deeply, trying to gather his courage from somewhere deep within him. Thankfully, he hadn't had to wait for long or else he wouldn't put it past himself to have gotten up and left.

However, a few drinks in, and he had finally relaxed. They were on their fourth round of the night, Rose having just gotten it. Rory had been telling them about his last final and how the professor had finally told off the students that had been cheating throughout the whole semester. They'd promptly been sent to the dean's office and, for some reason, this had been quite hilarious to Amelia.

"Oh, would you look at that! Someone must have taken it while we weren't looking." John widened his eyes and pretended like he hadn't actually offered her chair to the table next to them. If Rose had nowhere to sit, it would be best if they made their way to her flat. Then he could tell her how much he loved her and then maybe, just _maybe_ , he could kiss her goodnight, wish her a happy Christmas, and then… John snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a leg bumping his knee. He looked up and the air rushed out of his lungs as he took in the tongue-touched smile.

"Looks like I'll have to find a new one then," she teased, turning to look around in an exaggerated fashion.

Afraid, in his borderline-drunk state, that she was actually looking for somewhere else to sit, he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her down onto his lap. "Good thing I have the perfect seat, just for you," he whispered in her ear, proud that he hardly slurred at all.

Rose giggled and he hummed, bringing her closer in when she turned her head to nuzzle his neck.

He ignored the looks Amy was shooting him and drank his lager, continuing to joke and laugh with his friends. He held onto Rose the rest of the night, he and Rory shooting down the offer for a fifth, and sixth drink, allowing the girls to have their fun. Amy dragged Rose out to the makeshift dance floor for a little bit and John stared at the blonde's hips as they undulated to the beat, imagining them making that particular jerk-thrust under different circumstances.

It was only a few minutes before Rory made it over to the pair just before some prick thought it'd be a good idea to take advantage of the inebriated women, an annoyed John close behind. The two men called for separate cabs before Amy could punch the drunken fool in the face.

\----

Exiting the cab, John pondered over asking the driver to stay, but ended up paying the man and sending him on his way. Although the alcohol had gotten to him quite a bit more than he'd planned, he was still in a frame of mind where he wanted to make sure Rose was all tucked in before he left. He wouldn't be telling her tonight, but maybe tomorrow at breakfast…

At least, that was the plan.

Throughout the ride home, neither could quite keep their hands to themselves. Although he was more sober than Rose, John couldn't resist her advances as she cuddled into him. He wrapped an arm around her and felt her fidget when his thumb skimmed over a sliver of skin on her back. Both wrapped up in thick jackets, scarves, and gloves, but the clothing might as well not be around them. Hands wander towards thighs, knees, up a bare back or side and lips find their way across cheeks, upper lips, noses, eyebrows, foreheads, jaws. Pulling his scarf away, she spent quite some time on his neck, the nips and sucks letting him know he'd definitely have evidence of this for the next few days. He felt quite smug about that and swore he'd leave a few marks of his own soon.

Once they stepped out, they rushed up the stairs towards her room. Rose's shaky hands were trying to insert the key into the slot, but it was quite hard to do when he was right behind her, pressing himself against her back, the wool of his gloves grazing her stomach and making her grind into him. When she rose on her toes and her bum thrust _just there_ , he finally let her go, stepping back and watching her as she held the doorknob to keep herself steady.

Finally pushing the key in and turning it to unlock, she turned around to face him and it took what little restraint he had left to not reach out and pull her against him once again. He knew they had to stop, _we have stopped_ , he reminded himself, knew he couldn't allow them to continue, but when she gave him _that_ smile and asked, "Won't you come in?" he knew he had to make the right choice here. This could either turn out to be the most wonderful night of his life or the worst. _Which is it going to be, John?_

"It's not a good idea," he finally replied, his voice cracking and he could tell when a bit of awareness came upon her as she stopped smiling. His heart clenched.

There were a few moments of quiet before she suddenly stood up straighter and said, "It's late and it's not safe for you to be walking home at this hour. Should have at least asked the driver to wait if you weren't going to be staying." There was determination in her voice and then, lightly, she concluded, "I want to make you breakfast. It'll be our last one this year."

John exhaled; barely realising he'd even been holding his breath in the first place, and without another word stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He stood ramrod straight, unable to move anything but his head as he looked around. It wasn't like he'd never been in here before. He had, plenty of times, more times than he probably should have in the past couple of months. However, he'd never been in here so late. This wouldn't be any different, he told himself. Both he and Rose were not quite sober yet. He wouldn't let anything happen.

"Rose, where do you keep your spare bedding?"

"What?"

He looked at her bewildered face and blushed, thankful that neither had thought to turn on the lights yet. "So I can kip on the floor."

She looked at him like he was mad. Shaking her head, she retorted, "My bed has plenty of space."

This time it was his turn to give her a look and he raised a non-existent brow at her tiny bed. It's just a _little_ on the side of cosy, but he knew that look and he wouldn't be able to change her mind unless he planned to sleep on the bare wood. He _could_ bunch up his jacket and use it as a pillow… but then it was rather chilly in here. Finally, he sighed and nodded.

She gave him a smile and allowed him to use the loo first. As soon as he was done, she slipped into the small en suite.

He looked at the bed, his mouth going dry, and he wondered if he'd be able to control himself. He shook his head. Inebriated or not, he'd always treated Rose with respect and he wasn't about to stop now. John shrugged out of his jacket, unclipped his braces, and slipped out of his Oxford, grateful he'd worn a thin long-sleeved shirt and a vest underneath (it'd been quite a cold day). Kicking off his shoes, he finally sat down just as Rose stepped out, wearing purple and blue flannel jimjams. She looked adorable, her face clean of makeup and her hair flowing loosely.

"I'm glad you didn't run," she said, sounding more sober than she had in the last few minutes and he relaxed.

Smiling, he replied, "Where else would I run, but to you?" Standing, he pulled the blankets down and gestured for her to get in first.

"John," mumbled a drowsy Rose from beneath her warm comforter once they were both settled in, her back to his front, his arm around her waist, and their fingers loosely intertwined.

"Yes, Rose?" he whispered, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair.

"Tomorrow, or today rather, I need to talk to you about something very important."

"I do too. We'll talk in the morning, I promise."

With that, the two drifted off, the moon's light peeking in through Rose's sheer curtains, witnessing an ever-blooming love that was about to receive an abrupt wake-up call.


	6. The Rhythm of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... Hi? How've you all been?
> 
> This chapter is brought to you by me with A LOT of help and support from some very special ladies, especially [Fogs](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fogsblue/works) my lovely and gorgeous beta, and the brilliant and fantastic [Calli](http://archiveofourown.org/users/callistawolf/works). I could not have gotten through this chapter without them.
> 
> Thanks for being so patient with me, dear readers!

Rose woke up, her head pounding slightly. She felt as if her head and mouth had been stuffed with cotton balls. That was a sure sign that she'd had _way_ too much to drink. It had been a while since she overindulged like that and she could only hope she had not made a fool of herself. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was much too dry. Water. She needed water. When she tried to get up, however, she found herself in quite the predicament.

She was wrapped from head to toe with another's body. Rose stiffened and tried to recall what happened last night, but she was having a hard time concentrating as the person pressed against her back began to shift slightly. Her eyes widened when she felt something other than herself was stiff as well. A few minutes went by while she thought of what to do to get out of this situation when she suddenly heard indecipherable mumbles. Her cheeks reddened when she realised who was lying on her bed without an inch of space between them. Had they…? No, she was sure nothing had happened. She could feel her jimjams on and, peeking under the sheets, she gathered by the sleeves covering the arm that was wrapped around her that he was dressed too.

She gulped once more and was reminded that she really needed some water and paracetamol. Rose was sure he would too. She twisted herself around to face him, whispering, "John. John, wake up."

The professor mumbled some more, but didn't awaken. She sighed and lifted a hand to his shoulder to shake him carefully. "John," Rose repeated. "I have to-" She squeaked when the arm around her tightened and John shifted enough so that he was now on his back with her sprawled on top of him. Her legs straddled his leg and she could feel _him_ pressed on her thigh. Her blush deepened. Rose stared down at his face, remembering being in a similar position with him once before, the first time they met unexpectedly. She had been captivated with him then and her interest only grew the more she got to know him. She took in his wide forehead, sparse eyebrows, closed eyes, light lashes, his wide nose, fair cheeks, prominent chin, and, finally giving in, she stared at his lips. Lips that weren't too thin or too thick, lips that were very, very tempting…

Rose felt him inhale sharply and her eyes shot up to look at the green irises that first made her fall for him - in the nonliteral sense, she thought amusedly. Rather than the cheerful bright colour of that day, however, they were now dark and a bit unfocused. "Morning," she said a little breathlessly, then winced as it brushed over his face, recalling she had yet to rinse her mouth. It didn't seem he mined, judging by the way he beamed up at her. "I, um, need to go-" She gestured towards her bathroom and felt his hand grip her waist slightly.

"Of course." He nodded.

She tried to get up as carefully as possible, really she did, but her thigh still brushed his erection and Rose almost broke the skin of her lip when he pulled her back to him. Looking down, she saw John's darkened eyes and her heart raced. Were they going to…? A hand came up, fingers sliding through her hair to bring her face closer to his and she closed her eyes in anticipation. Instead of the thorough snog she was expecting, there was a simple light pressure on her lips. She lifted her head as the hand in her hair slid to her cheek.

"We'll talk later, yeah?"

She nodded once and this time made it out of bed without incident. After her usual business, Rose looked for the paracetamol. Closing the cabinet, she looked into the mirror and saw that, while tired, she was practically glowing. Today she and John would talk about where their relationship was going, if they would stay as friends or something more. And she would tell him about Halloween night. Not necessarily in that order, but today they would get everything out in the open.

It seemed a lifetime ago, almost. They had hardly known each other then. Sure they hung out sometimes, but that was always with Rory and Amy around. The past couple of months had sped by so fast and now she hardly recalled why she'd even kept that night a secret all this time. It seemed rather silly, but today she would be honest with him and tell him. She would tell him _everything_ , including how she truly felt about him.

Stepping back into her room, she said, "Here's something for your head, if you-" John, who'd been sitting on the edge of her bed (which was already made, she noticed), stood up suddenly and accidentally knocked a red, hardcover book from her nightstand.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, bending down to pick up the book which had landed open. Her eyes widened as she realised what it was and she watched as he picked it up carefully, smoothing out the pages and taking care not to look. It's as if he instinctively knew it was something personal to her.

Rose smiled when he handed the sketchbook to her, her hands gripping the back of his in appreciation and she hugged the book to her, blushing slightly.

"Do you mind if I ask what's in it?" John asked her.

She looked from her book to him. He looked sincerely curious and she couldn't help the joy that spread through her, even as apprehension took over. The book was fairly new, having purchased it about a week before Amy and Rory had announced their engagement, so there wasn't much in it. Still, it was always a bit nerve wracking for someone to see your work. After a moment's consideration, she finally agreed. "Go ahead and have a look. I'll make some tea."

John looked at her in awe, as if amazed she was actually letting him into this part of her life. She had told him once that she liked drawing, but had never shown him her work. He had become such an important part of her life already, though, so it was only fair. He took the book from her and sat down on her desk chair rather than back on her bed while she went into her tiny kitchen and put the kettle on. Checking her fridge, she sighed in relief when she saw she had half a dozen eggs and a few frozen sausages. It looked like she'd be able to make him breakfast after all.

"Is this Amy's dress?" he asked, perusing through the sketchbook intently and only looking up when she approached him with a mug full of tea. John tried to take a sip, but it was still quite hot so he blew on the surface a few times, quirking a brow at her.

Rose smiled at his actions before nodding. "Yeah, I told you she asked me to design her dress, remember?"

"I do. I just can't believe you went into business rather than design. These are amazing," he said earnestly and her smile widened.

"Thank you," she replied and Rose couldn't help but place a soft kiss on his lips. "What do you say, we have an indoor picnic? I'm sure I have a blanket somewhere in there." She gestured at the door of her closet which was cracked open a bit.

"I'd love to." His knuckles grazed her cheek before he stood, placing her book down carefully and away from the mug.

The butterflies in her stomach were in an uproar as she headed back into the kitchen to cook a proper fry up. Her mind wandered as she went through the menial task of cracking the eggs and stirring them directly in the pan, thinking about the day he brought her breakfast a couple of weeks ago. She was glad to be able to do the same for him before their winter break. It would be a miserable two weeks without him and a part of her wished they had more time. When she was with John she felt more like herself. They fit, she decided. No one had ever made her feel like he had, like she was the most precious being in the universe and they want nothing more than to be with her. It was exactly the same way she felt about him and she couldn't wait to tell him.

Hearing a crash and a soft curse from the other room, Rose giggled. "You alright in there?"

"Yeah, I just…"

Rose frowned when he didn't finish his reply. Turning the stove off, she walked through the doorway that separated the two rooms and froze.

John was standing in front of her open closet, back stiff, lips pressed together, and brow furrowed. There was an open, decorative box on the floor, its contents spilled on the floor. Her sewing basket must have been too close to the edge, she thought absentmindedly, staring at the red cloth that John held in a clenched fist, the object that had made her stand still in the first place. When she finally gathered the courage to look at his face again, she couldn't help but gasp.

The green eyes that had previously looked at her with so much adoration, with so much want, were now a storm of disbelief, anger, and, worst of all, hurt. What was going on in that big brain of his? "John, I-"

"It's you," he whispered and anything she could have said was wiped from her mind. What could she say now? The evidence was right in his hands. Rose cursed herself for being so thick, allowing him to go into her closet. She should have remembered she still had the costume in there. It simply hadn't crossed her mind. She had worked most of today out in her head. She'd cook him breakfast, they'd make small talk, and when they were finished, she would tell him about that night. If he forgave her, she'd ask him where he saw their relationship going. If not… Well, she hadn't allowed herself to linger there. She never imagined he'd find out before she could tell him herself.

Taking a breath, Rose continued to hold his gaze and admitted, "It's me." Before she could figure out how to continue, John started.

He took a step forward, his fist clenching tighter around the red hood and shaking it at her, as if she couldn't see it already. "We've been in a- that is, it's been _months_ and then we've spent every minute of our free time, and then that day in my flat- and, and yesterday we almost… _Why didn't you tell me_?" He exhaled and the tension seemed to leave his body, his shoulders slumped and he looked at her pleadingly. "I looked for her- you, you know. I know I never mentioned it in front of you, but that night haunted my dreams for _weeks_ after. My subconscious kept replacing the mask with your beautiful face because I…" He paused. " _Why_?" he asked once more instead of finishing his sentence.

A part of her wanted to ask him to finish what he was going to say, but the other part screamed that she had no right. Once again, she asked herself why she had waited so long to tell him. Rose could feel the silence stretch on and she finally blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "I didn't mean to kiss you that night."

He took a step back, his foot bumping into the box and she knew she had to continue before he took things the wrong way. "It wasn't planned or anything, not the dancing, not the kissing… I'd wanted to kiss you for so long, but I… I don't know what was stopping me from telling you how I felt except my poor excuse of wanting to concentrate on school. Amy kept telling me, I needed to get my head out of my books and have fun. That if I didn't take chances my life would pass me by before I knew it, and I'd been designing that," she gestured at the hood, "weeks before Halloween just for the fun of it. I decided she was right and so I worked on my costume during my spare time. It's why I didn't really join you, Amy, and Rory for lunch or dinner during those weeks.

"That day I almost chickened out. It'd been so long since I'd been to a party and most of my classmates think I'm either stuck up or too shy. But Amy and Rory wanted me there, so I decided to go, but then I couldn't find my boots… I ended up grabbing my pink Converse and the red mask I had from some celebration thing a few years ago. When I saw you standing all alone, I was going to surprise you, but then you looked so sad. I just wanted to cheer you up. I would have told you it was me, but then I just… I kissed you and I panicked. I was scared that you didn't feel the same about me, and then Rory and Amy announced their engagement and we began working together. That day in your flat, that was the best feeling in the world," she repeated his words back to him. "And every day after that has just been better and better because of you. There was no rhyme or reason to what I did, why I kept Halloween a secret from you. I just…" She shrugged, looking at the mess on the floor helplessly, frustrated that she couldn't seem to find the right words. "I was going to tell you today, if that makes any difference. I didn't mean to keep quiet about it for this long. I'm so-"

A hand cupped her face and Rose had no choice but to look at him, her heart clenching when she saw there was still some hesitation, but the anger was no longer there.

"It drove me quite mad, you know, thinking that I was somehow attracted to two different women. One I knew nothing about and the other I wanted to know _everything_ about, ever since the day I crashed into her. It didn't make sense, though, because I couldn't get the mysterious woman out of my mind. I desperately wanted her to be you, because _you're_ the one who'd been haunting my dreams long before the kiss of some random blonde. But then, as I got to know _you_ more, Red Riding Hood became a thing of the past and all I wanted, want, is a future with _you_." John stayed quiet for a few seconds before he looked down. "I made quite a mess, didn't I?"

She stared at him, baffled.

"How about I clean up while you finish cooking? Smells delicious." His lips quirked up.

Rose tried to gauge what he was thinking, but it didn't seem like he was going to run so she nodded in agreement. From the corner of her eye, she saw him tuck the red hood back in her closet.

"Rose?"

She stopped and turned back to face him.

"I forgot to tell you, the tea is delicious," he spoke softly and Rose recognised the peace offering.

She smiled and couldn't help but tease, "Wait until you try my mum's."

"I can't wait," he said seriously and she knew they were going to be okay.

After John had picked up all the bits and bobs and Rose finished with their simple breakfast, they sat down on top of the blanket and ate their meal in silence. She tried to keep her breathing steady, but her heart wouldn't slow down. Was this it? Were they going to be able to move past this or would they forever remain in a state of limbo? Or worse, would they simply drift apart during the holidays? Two weeks weren't a long time, relatively speaking, but longer and stronger relationships had failed over less. They weren't even in an _official_ relationship.

She shook her head, berating herself. Rose never liked 'what ifs' very much and she had let herself think of them long enough. It was time to let go of her doubts and take matters into her own hands. Before she could say anything however, half a banana was suddenly in her line of sight. She smiled and took it, finishing it off in a few bites. Bananas weren't her favourite fruit, but ever since she began to spend more time with John, she always made sure she had a fresh bunch.

"You're not the only one who made a mess, you know." Rose said, finally breaking the peace after she swallowed the last bite. She waited for him to look at her before continuing, "John, I want this to work." She saw him frown and worried that it was too soon after what had just happened. But if they didn't talk about it now, she feared they never would. She almost sighed in relief when he spoke.

"I do too," he said tentatively. "This, I mean, _us_. That is, _we_." He sighed, running a hand over his face. "I want us to be a couple."

Rose stared. Somehow, she never pictured him just coming out and saying exactly what he wished for them. She always thought she'd have to drag the words out of him or tell him exactly where she stood and he'd either agree or run for the hills. "I want that too," she replied. "I don't want any secrets between us. None that could potentially harm our relationship, anyway. I know you're very… quiet about your past and I won't push you to talk. Just. If you ever need an ear, I'm here. I'll always be here."

And there. There was that look that made her heart clench in sheer joy. His eyes brightened as a smile spread across his face and he looked at her as if there was nothing, no one, he'd rather be with than with her.

"Rose Tyler, just so everything's clear," John began matter-of-factly, "I am your boyfriend." Rose felt her tongue slip out to touch the corner of her mouth and he must have spotted it too because he said, suddenly and hesitantly, "That is, if you'll have me?" His eyes darted everywhere but her.

"John Smith," she said seriously, "I'd have no one else." Moving aside the plates between them, she sat up on her knees, took his face in her hands, and snogged him for all she was worth. Rose sighed into his mouth as his lips parted and he pulled her closer by wrapping his arms around her. She slid her hands through his hair and deepened the kiss.

It was a long while before John remembered he had a train to catch.


	7. Do You Mean It?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, SO sorry it took me so long. I was super stuck with this chapter. My motivation for writing altogether was nil to somewhere in the negatives. Also, RL has been crazy as heck. There may not be any quick updates, but I promise I will never abandon this story. I'm with it 'til the end!
> 
> A HUGE thanks to my ladies who kept me going and [Fogs](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fogsblue/works/) for being an amazing beta.

It was almost like a switch had been flipped. One minute they were on the edge of a very bad row and the next they were on their way to his flat, John laughing at a story Rose was telling of a childhood Christmas. One moment they weren't sure where they stood and the next he's imagining a small blonde girl riding her bike in the snow, only to end up slipping and sliding before falling off and worrying about her brand new, red bicycle. He shook his head and came back to the present. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss on Rose's lips, shooing away the thought of little blond children with green eyes. Maybe someday…

For now, he was simply happy that they had cleared the air of all doubts.

Of course, things hadn't been quite _that_ simple. There had been a lot of agonising between them this morning, not including the prior months of limbo, and their conversation hadn't been easy. For him, least of all. How did he tell the woman he was in love with that he wanted something more? What could he offer her, someone like Rose Tyler ? He was only a college professor while she was going into the world of business. Not to mention she was kind, beautiful, and had her whole life ahead of her while he was, though not much older than her, a bit of a recluse with hardly any eyebrows. He wasn't quite sure what she saw in him, but he was grateful she did and swore to himself he wouldn't take her for granted.

As they neared his flat, his heart began to sink. He wouldn't be seeing Rose for the next two and a half weeks. A part of him wished he hadn't put off telling her how he truly felt, but he couldn't find it in himself to regret having told her. So his timing was a little off and he'd be in Leadworth while she stayed in London. Things could be worse; they could be halfway around the world from each other, or in a different universe entirely.

Even before this morning he hadn't wanted to leave her and so, he had put off packing. Still, there was no helping it now. He had a train to catch soon.

Feeling a firm pressure on his hand, he turned and he couldn't help the silly grin that spread across his face at her curious look. He suppressed the little voices of doubt that had resurfaced and returned her grip before confidently declaring, "You and me, Rose? We'll be the stuff of legend!"

"Or the next source of gossip." She inclined her head towards the few students left on campus.

Of course most of them would be his students, he sighed before turning his attention back to Rose. She didn't seem too bothered by their staring and he hoped this would pass quickly. The last thing he wanted was to be an inconvenience to her…

"Hey," she said, taking hold of his hand in both of hers. "We'll be alright, yeah? Stuff of legend like you said. Just gotta get used to being stared at like celebrities." She winked.

"We're going to need a plan of escape for the paps!" he whispered inconspicuously and, thus, they turned it into a game. Giving themselves false names, they pretended they were a popular actor and actress from London who became best friends after working in a BBC mini-series before they'd decided to attend uni together. Rose, her actress name Billie Piper, after the ever-popular Lianne Piper, wanted to become a theatre director, but had relatively little experience while John, actor name Matthew 'Matt' Smith ("Because you'll always be a Smith!" Rose had proclaimed) wanted to go into script writing.

"In you go, Ms Piper," he announced with gusto, unlocking his door and gesturing her inside.

"Why thank you, Mr Smith." She giggled only to stop a couple of steps in.

Before he could ask what was wrong, he heard someone speak. "Please, Will will do," the voice chortled. "Get it? Will will?"

"Granddad!" John groaned. "Please!" He ran a hand over his face.

"Oh, is that a please I hear? So he _hasn't_ forgotten his manners, has he? And yet, he won't introduce me to the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen. Not since my Lis, anyway."

John watched as his grandpa winked at Rose and she graced the older man with one of her breathtaking smiles. Oh, there would be no getting her back until Will Smith knew everything about her. Closing the door, he sighed in resignation and said, "Rose, might I introduce you to my grandfather, William Smith. Granddad, this is Rose Tyler, my gi-" His tongue tripped on itself.

"Come now, John, you can say it," his grandpa teased when John didn't go on.

But he couldn't. He was frozen on the spot, his mouth slightly gaping. He could say he was her boyfriend, but he couldn't call her his girlfriend? What was wrong with this picture?

Will sighed and shook his head. "It's my fault, really, raising him all old-fashioned and formal-like," he informed Rose, matter-of-fact.

"Well, it's not my fault if courting sounds better than _dating_ ," he finally spat out, pouting, then wincing as Will's bushy brows rose almost to his receding hairline.

As old-fashioned as he was, John had never actually used the word courting with any of his previous girlfriends. It was just… Rose was more than a girlfriend, more than a passing fancy.

"There's nothing wrong with old-fashioned," Rose spoke, bringing his grandpa's attention back to her and John's heart thudded in his chest.

The spell was broken when he heard the kettle whistle and Will shot him a look. Sighing, he let Rose and his grandpa get acquainted while he served the tea. He knew it didn't escape the older man's notice that he'd already prepared Rose's cup just to her liking nor the blush that spread across his face when she smiled his favourite smile. When the three were finally sitting down around his small table and John was reaching out for a jammy dodger, he finally realised something was off. "Grandpa, what are you doing here?"

Instead of answering, Will turned to Rose. "How long did that take him?"

Rose hummed. "About ten, fifteen minutes?"

John felt his lips trying to jut out once more, but he resisted the urge and pressed them together instead, giving his grandpa a look. For all that the old man was always pestering him to find a _special someone_ , Will seemed determined to make him look like an idiot in front of Rose.

"I was getting tired of Leadworth. Didn't want to spend another night there! So I decided to come to you instead. Christmas in London! With my grandson. What more could I want?" Will said excitedly.

Despite all the teasing, John couldn't help but smile. This was the man who'd raised him for the first twenty years of his life. Despite leaving home at a young age to attend uni, he always went back home for every holiday and Will never stopped looking after him.

It was long passed teatime when Rose looked at the clock and startled. She turned to John, wide-eyed. "I told my mum I'd be home before five!" Taking her mobile out, she frowned. "Looks like I forgot to charge it last night."

"Here, use mine." He dug his out of his pocket. Looking at the screen, he winced when he realised he hadn't charged his either. Thankfully there was still seven per cent left so he headed to his living room, went to his desk, and plugged it into the charger he kept there before gesturing at Rose to use it.

She excused herself from Will and smiled at him in thanks before dialling her mum's number.

Turning back to his grandpa, John watched him, watch them with a smug look. "Oh, no," he said, clearing the table off. "I know that look."

"What look?"

Why his grandfather even tried to sound innocent was beyond him; John knew him better than anyone. "That 'I know something that you don't, but I'm not going to tell you what I know because you need to figure it out yourself' look."

"John, if you haven't figured out what I know by now then you're a lost cause."

He stared straight into his grandfather's eyes, eyes that were the same colour as his, and John said, seriously, "She's the one."

A smile spread across Will's face. "Doesn't take a genius to know that." He winked and John groaned once more before taking the tea tray into the kitchen, carefully placing everything into the sink. By the time he turned back around, Rose had returned. "Everything alright?" he asked, noticing her flushed cheeks.

"Yep! Everything's just fine. But I should get going. It'll be dark soon and I promised mum to go shopping with her for Christmas dinner." Though she didn't stutter, John could tell there was something bothering her.

"I'll walk you back," he said automatically.

"No. It's alright, John. You're grandpa is here to visit _you_. I'll be fine and I promise to give you a call when I get to my dorm and then when I arrive at mum's, yeah?" Though she said this with a smile, he knew he'd be hard-pressed to convince her to let him accompany her. Still, he had to try and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, his grandfather butted in.

"I'm sure John and I would feel a lot better if he escorted you home, Rose," Will said gently.

"Thank you, Will, but it's still early enough. I only need to pack a few things and then I'll take a cab to mum's. I'm sure you two have a lot of catching up to do." Her tone was final and even the older man knew when to back down from a stubborn woman.

John had never met his grandmother, but he'd heard stories. Sighing, he relented. What choice did he have? "But don't forget to call me, okay?" He waggled a finger at her, as if she were a naughty student and if she didn't pay attention, he'd- And, whoa, best to cut off that train of thought right there. His grandfather was still in the room, for Pete's sake! Not to mention he'd _never_ had any fantasies like that before. Hardly paying any attention to when she bid his grandfather farewell, he walked her to the door.

Rose grinned at him, mischievous tongue peeking out. She leaned towards him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and murmured, "I promise to call you soon as I'm home, alright Professor?"

John's only response was a low groan as she pulled him in for a thorough snog. With the flat surface of his door on his back and her body pressing against his deliciously, his mind was blissfully blank. He took note of the way her breath hitched when he squeezed her hips, the tips of his long fingers grazing her bum. The slight whinging sound she made when he broke away almost had him reversing their positions. Instead, he lowered his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "If it gets any later, I'll _insist_ on escorting you to your room, Tyler."

As her breathing steadied, she nodded and pulled away from him reluctantly. Before turning a corner where he'd lose sight of her, she looked back and said, "That's Piper to you, Smith." With a wink, she disappeared.

Sighing, he touched his lips, feeling them swollen from their short snogging session. It was going to be a _long_ two weeks.

"So," his grandfather asked when he came back into the room, "what's for dinner?"

He saw Rose's name flash on his caller ID and grinned. This was the second time she'd called him - the first call having taken place almost two hours ago when she'd arrived at her dorm. She must have finally made it to her mum's. Reaching for it, he didn't stop stirring the simmering water in the pot. "Hello," he said cheerfully, taking a small sample from the spoon and shifting the flat phone to his shoulder to grab the saltshaker in order to sprinkle a little more into the stew.

"Hello," an equally bright voice greeted him on the other end of the phone.

"Hello," he replied once more, unable to think of what else to say. Such a large brain and what good did it do him? He continued stirring.

"You already said that," she pointed out, needlessly.

"Quite right," he agreed. "Did you make it home okay?" he asked.

"I did, thanks. Mum almost tore my ear off about how late I got here, but we caught up for a bit before her night time shows came on."

He chuckled at her amused tone, then winced. "I'm sorry I kept you. I really should have gone with you, explained to your mum-"

"John, it's fine, I'm a big girl, yeah?"

Sighing, he agreed. "I know. I just can't seem to help it."

"That's alright, it's one of the things I l-like most about you," Rose said, her voice suddenly shy.

"Yeah?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

"It's different with you. I was always brought up to respect women and I feel like I do, but with you, Rose Tyler… It's different. I didn't think it would be," he admitted.

"Good different or bad different?" she asked.

"Oh, good different, definitely good different. You're special, not just to me, but to everyone you meet. You're kind and generous, and you deserve the very best. I can only hope to be that for you."

"John." He could hear a small waver in her voice before she cleared her throat. "There's something I wanted to ask you," she said with some trepidation and John couldn't help but hold his breath.

He tried to push back the inkling of fear. What had her so hesitant? Was it their new relationship? They had been pretty close, if he did say so himself, especially after Halloween night. Now, with everything out in the open, he hoped they would only grow closer. Was it what he'd just said? Was it too much? What if this change caused them to regress, though? And what if-?

"John?"

He shook his head and scolded himself. "Yes, Rose?"

"I… was hoping, well, that is to say." He heard her growl in frustration and had to hold in a bout of laughter. It was rare that she was ever so shy, especially around him, but now he was sure that there wasn't anything to worry about. It was probably something so simple and she'd worked herself up and was now frustrated at herself for making a big deal about it.

"My mum, and I, we're wondering if you and your gran- Will would like to join us for Christmas dinner?"

Had anyone asked, he wouldn't have been able to tell them how it happened. One minute, he was stirring and the next, he'd poured the whole spoonful of stew on his unoccupied hand.

John yelped and he heard Rose's worried voice, but all he could do was curse, drop his mobile on the counter, and leap towards the sink to let the cold water run over his injured hand. The pain wasn't enough to keep him distracted, however, as he stared at his phone, a little voice calling his name in worry. He'd been wrong after all. This was _definitely_ a big deal. A deal so catastrophic that he wasn't sure there would be any other ending except his. Meet her mother, on Christmas, with his grandfather attending? Her _mother_.

The past few weeks had been wonderful and he was quite glad that they were now officially a couple who could do couple-y things with the 'proper' label. But, he had been so focussed on Rose Tyler that he hadn't thought much outside of them.

Shaking his head, he quickly wrapped his hand in a towel and grabbed the mobile with his uninjured hand. "Rose?"

"John! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, but at a little huff, he admitted, "Burned my hand with the stew I was making. I already ran it through cold water."

"You're such a klutz," she said affectionately. After a moment's hesitation, she went on, "It's okay if you don't want to come. I'm sure you and Will would prefer a quiet Christmas and it can get pretty rowdy here at the Estate and-"

"Granddad did _not_ leave Leadworth for the holidays for 'quiet', Rose." He winced, realising how that sounded. "I'd prefer a rowdy Christmas with you than ten Christmases in a year."

"Really?" came her hopeful voice.

"Really, really," he replied eagerly and grinned when he heard her laugh. He could picture her rolling her eyes playfully as she uttered, "Dork."

They talked for a few more minutes, in which she gave him her mum's address, a good time to arrive, and an idea of what to bring, along with several warnings on what to expect from Jackie Tyler. He knew Rose had grown up in a single-parent household, her mum having raised her all on her own after her father died. Though he was quite nervous, John couldn't help but admire the woman who had brought Rose up.

Before they hung up, he was left breathless when she said, "John, for the record, you're _more_ than enough. I don't want you to ever change who you are for me. You're my best friend and I- I just want _you_. That's all I could ever ask for."

A quiet click let him know she'd ended the call and John felt more elated than he had in a long time.

Two days later, it was Christmas. John would have thought the days without Rose would drag on, but they seemed to speed by as he took his grandfather around London and prepared for the holiday.

He and Will had spent Christmas Eve with the future Ponds ("It's going to be _Williams_ ," Rory complained, but John loved teasing him). They'd had dinner that Rory cooked ("Thank goodness," Will had joked, raising his hands up in defence at Amy's withering look) and stayed in playing board games.

The twenty-fifth found John in the bathroom as he finished dressing. When he looked up in the mirror to tie his bowtie, he noticed he still had a faint mark on the side of his neck. He blushed, staring at the hickey as he recalled the night he received it. Shaking his head, he secured the bowtie and entered the living room where he spotted his grandpa staring at the frame on his desk. Because of finals, his desk was littered with papers, four classes filled with almost a hundred students each made for a lot of correcting. Red pens were strewn across the surface as well, but nothing disturbed the wooden frame containing a picture of his parents.

Will finally noticed him and began to stand when he suddenly cried out, falling on one knee and holding himself up with an arm on the desk. A few pens had fallen, but John paid them no mind as he headed towards his grandpa. Will waved him off, but admitted defeat when he couldn't get up. Grabbing onto John's shoulder, Will sat back on the chair and sighed heavily. "These bones are getting too worn to keep up with me."

"You've got to be more careful, grandfather," John scolded, worry tinging his voice.

"I'm fine. Just let me rest for a minute and then we can go, alright? Don't want to keep that girl of yours waiting. Or your future mother-in-law." The older man grinned.

Instead of taking the bait, John simply sighed.

Almost an hour later, John was adjusting the plate he was holding to knock on the door of Number 48, Bucknall House. He was startled when a young man greeted them.

Unlike John, however, he didn't seem at all surprised to see them. "You must be John and William Smith. Rose hasn't been able to stop talking about you since she came home," he said, laughing good naturedly. "Merry Christmas, by the way! I'm Mickey Smith, Rose's friend." He stuck out his hand and shook both of theirs before letting them in. "The neighbours just left, so you're right on time. Rose's doing, I'm sure. Probably didn't want to overwhelm you. You have enough work ahead of you, with Jackie interrogating you." It only took a few steps to enter the combined living and dining room, the table all set up for dinner.

He looked around the small, but cosy flat and smiled at all the picture frames covering various surfaces. About a minute later, John heard Rose's voice float from the other side of the wall and almost dropped the plate when she turned the corner.

"Mickey, don't forget Mar- Oh! Hello! And a Merry Christmas," Rose broke off and gave the two related Smiths a wide grin before pulling them into a hug. She kissed the older Smith on the cheek before sliding her lips against John's in a soft caress. Though she was only wearing a simple dark green jumper with a black skirt, tights, and boots, he thought she had never looked more beautiful and he couldn't look away.

Realising he'd yet to say anything, he blurted out, "You never told me you had such an affinity for Smiths, Rose Tyler."

"What can I say? I have good taste." The tip of her tongue peeked out and he felt breathless once more.

Rose turned back to Mickey and handed him a large, blue, paper bag filled with a few packages. "Say hello to Martha for me, and try to stay in Francine's good graces this year, yeah? It wouldn't do to have Martha widowed before you've had a chance to ask her to marry you." She hugged Mickey and escorted him out the door with a quick, apologetic smile at her guests.

John followed her with his gaze and, because he was so distracted, he almost didn't see the other blonde who was waiting for him to notice her. When he finally did, however, one had to give him points for not jumping out of his skin.

Jackie Tyler seemed a formidable woman. He had heard stories of the strict woman, mostly from Rose's childhood, but there were times she would have a few current ones to tell Amy, Rory, and himself as well. She had the whole neighbourhood under her thumb and did everything in her power to keep her daughter safe. He was sure that included pervy old men (though _he_ wasn't a perv and was only a few years older than Rose, really) and John had to wonder if the older woman had invited him to get to know him or to scare him off. He really hoped it wasn't the latter or he'd disappoint her greatly. No one was keeping him away from Rose, not even her own mother.

So, with false bravado, he took a breath and opened his mouth to introduce his grandpa and himself. After doing so, he offered the plate he'd brought and when Jackie's dark brows rose at the sight of tonight's traditional Christmas pudding, he was sure, if nothing else, his culinary skills would win her over.

He felt an arm wrap around his waist and looked down to see a smiling Rose. He'd already won the heart of one Tyler woman, after all. For her sake, he'd win the other's respect.

And earn Jackie's respect he did. Thanks to his granddad, Jackie knew more about him than Rose had before tonight. Throughout dinner, there were embarrassing childhood stories, triumphs, and happy memories being exchanged. When the pudding was served, though not before lighting it up, and a round of applause was given at the flare (he thanked whatever deities he didn't believe in and then some that he hadn't burned the flat down), he knew Jackie would at least give him a chance.

"Rose could have used you, growing up. She was always awful at numbers. Gets it from her dad," the older woman informed him over her glass of wine and from the corner of his eye he saw Rose blush.

"I would have loved to help little Rose Tyler with her homework," John teased. "But it seems to me she did quite brilliantly on her own. And with you," he added quickly.

For a second, he thought the woman was going to slap him, but instead she had tears in her eyes and said, "I couldn't have asked for a better daughter."

"Okay, that's enough drinking for you, mum," Rose intervened as John looked on helplessly. He didn't know what he had said warranted crying, but he was relieved he didn't have to deal with it. Giving them some privacy, he stood from the chair and walked the few steps into the living room where his grandpa was sitting on the couch, holding his head and wincing.

"Grandpa, are you sure you're okay?" He approached the older man, but was waved off.

"I'm fine, son. It's just a headache, nothing to worry about."

"Maybe you should lay off the whiskey too," John suggested, but he should have known better. He rolled his eyes at Will's affronted look. Might have said the Queen had flashed him her lacy knickers the way his grandfather was acting.

"Now, John. It's Christmas! Let us enjoy ourselves. I'm sure we'll be paying for it tomorrow anyway and won't look at another liquor bottle until next year." Jackie approached them, winking at Will. The two had formed a quick friendship, embarrassing him and Rose as parents (and grandparents) were wont to do. John had a feeling that there would be no secrets between them and it made him nervous even as it warmed his heart.

Jackie turned on the telly and turned to a channel that was replaying the Queen's speech.

Catching Rose's gaze over by the small hallway, he stood when she gestured towards the door and he saw she was already carrying both their coats.

"Mum, John and I will be right back, alright? We're just heading to the roof for a bit."

"Alright, but you two be careful. I'll have tea waiting so you don't catch a cold," Jackie replied without taking her eyes of the screen.

"Come on," Rose whispered, helping him into his coat and he did the same for her. She took his hand in hers and guided him to the staircase that led to the rooftop. "I know it's not as clear here, but I thought…" she began once they were outside, but trailed off.

Pulling her into a hug, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "There's no one I'd rather share the stars with than you. To have the second and first best feelings in the world at any one time is more than I could ever have hoped for, Rose Tyler."

She stared at him, gaping slightly, and he knew she didn't know quite what to say. He wasn't even sure where those words had come from, but they were sincere.

"I love you, John Smith."

This time, it was his turn to be speechless.

"It might sound silly because we haven't known each other that long, but as I told you before, I'm more myself around you and I refuse to waste any more time walking on eggshells. I love you," she said firmly, stubbornly, and he had no doubt of her honesty because it was exactly what he had just told her, but with more useless filling. Where she was straightforward, he danced around the subject, but she was right. There was no use in wasting time.

Capturing her lips in a heated kiss, he tried to show her exactly how he felt and, when they finally parted, he murmured, "Rose Tyler, I love you too."


	8. A Lifetime Filled with Tight Embraces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Err...surprise? XD I'm sooooo sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter done. I honestly can't believe it's taken me this long. I was done with it a few months ago, but real life is CRAZY BUSY. Chapter 9 is already complete, BUT I have no plans to post it until chapter 10 is complete (WHICH already has a little less than 1,000 words). Before y'all take my head off, I WILL be working on it this weekend and once THAT'S done, I'll send ch. 9 to my DARLING friend and beta, [Fogs](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fogsblue/works), who has still stuck around after all this time despite my awful roadblocks). The reason for this is...well, things are about to get rocky, my dear readers. So, really, this chapter is a breather with no cliffies. And smut! Finally, the smut! A HUGE thank you to all my ladies for helping me through this chapter which tried to kill me, I swear it did. And a big hug to my lovely [Calli](http://archiveofourown.org/users/callistawolf/works) who is just plain awesome at introducing me to movies I'll love, especially when they'll help with my stories. Anyway, enjoy!

"I can't believe you didn't tell us!" Amy smacked John on the shoulder.

"I can't believe Will didn't tease him all throughout dinner," Rory quipped.

Rose laughed as the two continued to poke fun at her boyfriend.

When he finally escaped their continuous jabs, John stepped behind her and wrapped his arms securely around her shoulders.

Sighing, she cosied up to him. "I hope your grandpa survives an evening with my mum and our neighbours."

He kissed her neck, and rumbled, "He'll be fine. I'll have you know, Rose Tyler, that us small-town folk know how to party with the best of them."

The line moved and they with it. Rose turned her head and pressed her lips against his cheek. "Is that so?"

"I've got the moves, but I wouldn't want to boast."

Before she could retort, the doors opened once more and the group of four were let into one of the many rowdy clubs in London, ready to celebrate the New Year. She caught Amy's gaze and winked before taking John by the hand. Rose led him to the dance floor after checking in their coats, twisting this way and that to avoid colliding into the crowd. "You've got moves," she quirked a brow, "show me your moves."

John opened his mouth to reply, but let out an _oomph_ instead when someone bumped into him, causing him to stumble forward.

She took this opportunity to wrap her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with his thick hair. Rose hummed, pleased, when she felt him shudder.

Soon, both were sweating, the crowd and dancing working them into a frenzy.

'I could think of a better reason to work up a sweat,' Rose thought and she recalled the night concluding last term. They hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other, much like now, except John hadn't danced with her then. Waking up in his arms the next day had been one of the best feelings, though. They hadn't spent much time together in the past week, taking the time to catch up with their families, but they sent each other various texts throughout the day.

"Pretty snazzy DJ, wouldn't you say?" John murmured in her ear, grinning as he slipped his thumbs just underneath her shirt to caress her skin.

She giggled, amused by his choice of words and the fact that she was just a wee bit ticklish on her left side. "Snazzy?"

"What, no one says snazzy anymore?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but that's alright. Snazzy," she enunciated carefully and laughed at his pout. If it were possible, she'd hold him closer. Instead, she reached up and nibbled at his lower lip, her body continuing to move smoothly along with the beat.

If someone had told Rose before starting uni that she would find someone to truly love, she would have scoffed at the idea. Growing up and watching her mum go through heartbreak after heartbreak taught her a couple of things, but the most important lesson was that one couldn't ever count on a man. Oh, sure, when she was younger, she'd allowed herself to be swept off her feet. But that didn't mean she let Jimmy Stone walk all over her.

The knowledge she had gathered from her mum's relationships, along with her dear mentor, Sarah Jane, helped her to put a stop to her relationship with Jimmy before it could get worse. After that, she was determined not to let any foolish fancy get in her way.

But John was more than a fleeting fancy. She loved him. Sure, she had _thought_ she loved Jimmy, but with John that was no maybes. Rose _knew_ she loved John Smith, slightly awkward, klutzy, and eccentric professor. She wouldn't have him any other way.

Looking up at him, her breath caught in her throat at the way he gazed at her. There was no doubt in her mind that he loved her and she had never been happier to have found what she had once considered impossible with John Smith. Love had been something Rose considered unattainable, a fanciful thing that either broke a person or changed them utterly. With John, she realised it could be _more_ , that she could be more, that they _both_ could be more.

As people around them began to count down, Rose counted the heartbeats under her palm and looked up when cheering burst throughout the room. She knew exactly who she wanted to spend this year, next year, every other year, with after that. Through the good and the bad, in the arms of one John Smith, that's exactly where she wanted to be. Forever.

\-----

Rose sighed happily, cuddling further into John, who had his arms wrapped around her. The holidays were over and they were now two weeks into the new term, her final term. In a few short months, she would be a graduate from the University of London.

"Soon I'll be thrown into the real world with the wolves," she'd joked and John snorted.

"That's quite an astute statement and a little ironic, Little Red," he winked and had tweaked her nose. "Still," he continued, "I think Rose Tyler is more of a she-wolf than a little girl lost in the woods. You've beat the odds just by attending university, giving the two-finger salute to the statistics. I have no doubt that you'll do the same in the business world."

His words lifted her spirits and she had, of course, rewarded him with a thorough snog.

Although at one point Rose felt like their relationship was going too fast, in other aspects, they were strolling through, enjoying the view, and smelling the roses, as they said (though, sometimes John _would_ smell her, which made her giggle). They were both fine with that. The two were pretty busy with their classes and in a few days, she would begin her internship.

She'd had a phone interview each with the companies in Edinburgh and New York, and an in-person one for the company in London early in December. Rose thought they all went well and even had second interviews with those in New York and London. However, just before winter break, when she heard from all three companies, only those in Edinburgh and London were willing to take her in. Apparently, the company in New York had had some financial issues and had to cut off their internship program that year. She'd been slightly disappointed as she'd thought that was the place she could earn the best experience, what with her focus in International Business.

Feeling John shift next to her, she smiled. Maybe it was for the best. Everything happened for a reason, she told herself. Next week, she was starting her internship here in London, where her mom, friends, and John were. She couldn't help but think there was no place she'd rather be.

\-----

Rose came home and immediately kicked off her shoes, groaning as her feet sank into the plush rug by her bed. She had just finished her first week at her internship and she felt drained. There wasn't a lot to do at the office and that's what made her exhaustion worse. It was a sort of lethargic state that made her mind numb and her body feel like a ragdoll. Dropping onto the bed, she allowed her eyes to close and promised herself that she'd get back up in a few minutes.

When she finally awoke, it was to the sound of rain pattering on her window. Rose blinked and turned to look at the clock on her nightstand, sitting up quickly and swearing. It was already 5:15. She'd promised John she would be at his flat at 5:30 for dinner. Fiddling with her phone, she discovered three missed calls, all from him. Before she could type in her passcode (his birthday) and call him, though, there was a knock at her door.

Walking the few steps towards it, she checked through the peephole first and grinned, a bit bemused. "Hello," Rose murmured when she opened the door.

"Hello." John smiled right back, his arm looped through a basket and a dripping wet umbrella with a handle in the shape of a question mark held in his other hand. When she had first seen it, she laughed, but it was so him that she'd wrapped her hand around the one gripping the handle and kissed him underneath it.

"I thought we were meeting at your place?" she wondered, gesturing him inside once the memory faded.

"We were," he paused, for dramatic effect, she was sure. "But the rain kind of ruined my plans for tonight. I had a picnic planned, on my balcony under the stars." He glared past her shoulder, right at the windows that were being smattered with heavy raindrops. "Plus, you know, first week at a new work environment. I thought it'd be best if we had a picnic here?" he ended, somewhat hesitantly.

Instead of answering verbally, Rose took his brolly, her fingers grazing his, and carefully placed it into an empty bucket she had for her own. She took the basket and placed it on her tiny table before pulling him close to her.

John responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her and capturing her mouth with his. Like any time they kissed, Rose felt herself melting into him, their bodies pressed close together. Her hands made their way up, to dig into his thick mop of hair, short nails lightly scratching the back of his neck. His hands, however, were pressed against her back and waist, trying to bring her as close to him as possible. Mouths opened and soon they became lost in one another, Rose rubbing against the planes of his chest, a hand wandering to his back, taking a fistful of his shirt and trying to bring him closer still. She could feel his long, bony fingers dig into her hip and couldn't help but moan at the pressure.

After a few minutes, they finally broke apart, gasping for air.

"Chips?" came John's high-pitched voice.

She couldn't resist leaning in and kissing him one more time. "Sure, just let me get out of this thing." She gestured at her skirt suit ensemble and could have sworn his eyes darkened as he took in her rumpled form. It took all of her willpower to resist the urge to drag him into her bed, dinner be damned.

He nodded mutely and went to her closet to grab a blanket to throw over the floor.

Just before she entered the bathroom with a set of soft jimjams, she saw him tilt his head in contemplation. She wondered what he was thinking before shrugging and entering the loo, changing quickly and making sure she smelled decent before stepping back out into her small sitting area. In the time it took her to get ready, John had already spread out the blanket, food and one maths professor laid out on it. Well, to be fair, he was only sitting, legs crossed, and leaning against the frame of her bed, staring up at her guiltily with a chip in his mouth.

She'd had never seen anything more attractive. By the appreciative glance he gave her, even in just her simple shorts and ruffled short sleeved shirt she garnered his attention. Rose flushed, her chest contracting, as well as something else a bit lower. Shaking her head mentally, she told herself to get her mind out of the gutter.

Rose gingerly sat down next to him, kissed the corner of his lips, and grabbed some chips for herself, along with a few pieces of fish. She moaned happily at the fried goodness before grabbing the remote sitting atop her mattress and turning on the small telly she'd set on her dresser. "What're you in the mood to watch?" she asked John.

He simply shrugged. "Anything's alright with me."

They settled on _Sleepless in Seattle_ and Rose had almost forgotten what a romantic John was, though how it slipped her mind, she wasn't sure. He was always going out of his way to do something wonderful for her, whether it was bringing her a simple order of fish and chips after a long, tedious week or giving her a beautiful orchid for Christmas. She hadn't realised he was paying much attention to her when they went shopping for Amy's flowers; Rose had lingered at a small section with several potted orchids, taking in their delicate petals. Now, her own plant was settled on the small table she had by her dresser.

Currently, he was singing the lyrics at the beginning of the film, completely off-key, but it made her heart race all the same. _“A kiss is still a kiss._ "

As soon as she finished swallowing a chip, she leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips.

_“The world will always welcome lovers, as time goes by._ " He returned her chaste kiss with one of his own. They grinned at each other silly before giggling at the cheesiness of it all.

They returned their attention to the film, making comments here and there. They spoke about the sadness of the movie, how difficult it must be to find someone else after spending so long with someone they loved (John kissed her and held her close when they got to the part where Sam was imagining his dead wife). There was laughter, at how John himself was like Sam in some ways: courteous, old-fashioned, gentlemanly - all things Rose assured him she loved about him.

(Though she did keep her thoughts on Jonah being the biggest lie Hollywood had ever told to herself. No eight-year-old was that adorable. Her cousins were menaces at that age and would never have done what that kid did. She knew how much John actually liked kids, though, and she imagined he'd have made a great primary school teacher, assisting any student who needed a bit of help with their homework.)

This was one of their favourite things about watching movies together. Neither of them minded talking during it and, if it was a new film, they'd just rewind if either one missed something. They'd gone to the cinema all of one time sometime in November when they were ‘just friends’ and had been unable to hold the compulsion of whispering comments back and forth. Luckily, they hadn't been kicked out, but they'd received their fair share of dirty looks. After, they'd simultaneously agreed they could wait to watch a movie in the comfort of either flat. Another bonus of doing so was snuggling together.

After John came back from throwing the rubbish, humming along to ‘In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning,’ she instantly curled up to him. Sides pressed together from her head on his chest all the way to where her bare feet just barely grazed his own, his arm wrapped around her, their right hands intertwined, it felt…

"Like magic," he whispered in her ear, winking at her when she turned to face him.

Corny though it was, she knew the sentiment to be sincere. She felt it too. It _was_ like magic and she counted herself lucky to have found that with John.

As the movie went on, John continued to whisper-sing the songs in her ears and she sighed in contentment, the day's tensions slowly melting away. She felt herself drifting after he finished one of her favourite songs, _“Just the sound of your voice, the light in your eyes, we're so far away from yesterday, together, with a wink and a smile. We go together… like a wink and a smile.”_

She nuzzled the fabric of his shirt unconsciously, this one a simple white Oxford, his braces scratching her cheek slightly. John had removed his jacket, but kept the braces, knowing how much she adored them. However, his trademark bowtie was loose and she wondered if she'd be able to pull it off with her teeth. At that thought, she shifted and buried her face in his chest slightly as her cheeks heated, feeling him turn to look at her.

"Tired?" he murmured, pressing his lips on the crown of her head, feeling the warm hand that was threaded through hers caressing her thigh even with the barrier of her jimjams.

Rose gulped. She _had_ been tired, but the heady rush she felt earlier coursed through her once more. "Not really," she mumbled, turning further into him, a hand coming up to wrap around his braces, the other on his shoulder as she leaned up to take his lips. She was not disappointed when he responded immediately, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her onto his lap. Her hand released the strap with a snap and she moaned when his hips thrust into hers, her fingers delving into his soft hair, tugging him closer. Rose grinned when a warm hand reach under her top and she hummed happily as it spanned across her ribs, fingers dancing under her breast.

The fingers only hesitated for a moment before encompassing it completely, squeezing gently. At least, until she pulled her lips from his to rain kisses down his jaw and neck. She began to unbutton his shirt, forgoing trying to remove the bow with her teeth and simply tugging it away to get at more skin. Her head fell back when he pinched at her nipple in retaliation, hips undulating and fingers gripping at his shoulders. Her mind was filled with nothing but pleasure at his ministrations and when she felt his other hand cupping her arse through her thin shorts, she took him by the collar and their mouths crashed together once more. Busying herself with the buttons of his shirt, she almost cried in triumph when they were all undone.

John pulled back, moving his hands away from her, reluctantly, she thought, judging by the way he created blazing trails over every inch of her skin until he brought his arms loosely around her. She felt him fiddle with his cuffs, but stopped him when he almost shoved his braces down with his shirt. Instead, she kept her eyes on his bright green ones, eyes that had caught her attention the moment they first bumped into each other. Ever so slowly, she grazed the surface of his chest, whether his shirt covered him or not, with the back of her knuckles until she reached the loops of his trousers where his suspenders were hooked into. She unlooped the one on her right, then the left, hands pushing them up, then off, along with his Oxford.

It was only then she broke their gaze, scooting back a bit to take in the sight of his bare chest, the light, sparse hair that covered it, darkened nipples, tightening under her observation. Rose's fingers danced over territory, unseen before tonight. Sure, she'd had her hands under his shirts and vests plenty of times, and as he'd had his hands under hers. They weren't shy, but for some reason they had never crossed the line.

She was certain that was about to change when she felt John pull down the front of her loose shirt in order to capture a nipple in his mouth, the other once again being teased by his fingers. Gripping his forearms, Rose gasped for breath as her heart picked up the pace, her hips undulating over him again and again. She wanted to come so badly, her mind hazy with lust, barely managing to put together a few thoughts on how they should move up on the bed so they could shag each other rotten. Rose had never been more thankful that they'd had the ‘talk’ early on (she was on birth control and they were both clean, so there was no need to worry about anything unexpected). A whimper was torn out of her as his thigh pressed up against her centre and suddenly, finally, pleasure coursed through her.

As her breathing began to slow down, becoming more regular, Rose realised she was just straddling one of his legs, her knee grazing the hardness between them. She looked up, taking in John's blown pupils, hardly able to see the ring of green even with the glow the telly's screen. Unable to tear away from his gaze, she slid down his leg, before standing up. Seeing his face contort in confusion, she smiled gently and extended a hand, her grin widening as he took it, though he mostly used his legs to push himself up rather than her hand.

Taking advantage of his slight unbalance, Rose pushed him towards the bed where he landed with an ‘oomph’ and a bounce.

John finally broke the silence. "That was not nice, Tyler." He mock-glared at her, the image ruined with his fringe hiding his eyes, serving to further heighten the lust she felt.

"Never said I was nice, Smith." Her gaze travelled down his bare chest and arms. Thin though he was, he hid a deceiving amount of muscle under his Oxfords and beloved tweed jacket. Unconsciously, she licked her lips as her eyes focussed on the front of his trousers before being distracted by the slightly damp patch on his thigh. She could feel her cheeks heating up, but refused to be embarrassed. It just showed how wet she was underneath her shorts and knickers. Looking back up at his face, and judging by John's smirk, there really was nothing to feel shy about. That smirk just had to go, though. Dropping to her knees, she situated herself between his legs and pressed her lips right against him, letting her warm breath caress the hardness underneath the scratchy layer of his trousers.

"Rose!" John cried out, his hips pulling away from her. He put his hands on her shoulders, but didn't push her away. Tilting her head and laying it on his thigh, she watched the rise and fall of his chest, waiting. "I, that is, I just... Not that. I would. But right now? It's too much."

Instead of putting her off, it made her want him more. Before she could decide what to do next, _pull her clothes off, take care of his trousers, or just crawl into bed with him_ , he hauled her up so she was sprawled on top of him, and he was snogging her like they'd never get a chance again. Teeth nipped at supple flesh, tongues fought for dominance that neither were quite willing to give yet, though it was a close call when she took his lower lip and sucked at it, hard. Her hands ran across the expanse of his chest, nails scraping slightly. Rose gasped for breath as he made his way from her jaw to her neck, nuzzling the fabric of her shirt just over her breasts.

Before she knew it, she was on her back, and how he managed _that_ in her tiny bed, she'd love to know, but not now. Oh, not now, when he was pulling off her shorts, knickers and all, the cool fabric adding an extra sensation to the fingers trailing down her legs. When he came back to capture her lips once more, it was gentle this time, and it made her shake. Feeling the fabric of her shirt still creating a barrier between them, she made to remove it when he pulled back. Shivering at the intensity of his gaze, she sat up, making him lean back a little, and peeling her shirt off. Her breath caught as his hands smoothed up across her ribcage before capturing her nipples between his fingers, pinching and rolling them carefully, at first, then a little harder and, at her cry of pleasure, he gave a “Ha!” of triumph.

Not one to take things lying down, Rose brought a hand to the waistband of his trousers when she was unexpectedly once again on her back, hand pressed into the pillow beside her head. Staring up at darkened eyes and thin lips now full and red from all the snogging, she tilted her chin up, daring him. To do what, she wasn't sure, but it seemed he knew exactly what he wanted. A moan escaped her as he took a nipple in his mouth, sucking with just the right amount of pressure and she had a fleeting thought, how pinching her earlier must have been his way of getting the right calculations. It was gone in a gasp as she felt him trail over to her other nipple, her free hand coming to grasp his mop of hair. This caused him to suck harder before letting go with a pop. Rose would never admit to the whinging sound she made, small though it was, as he made a trail down her belly, finally letting go of the hand he had trapped, licking and nipping away.

A groan reverberated through her entire being when John found himself right between her legs and licked her. Her hips shot up and he had to bring a hand to each hip to press her down as she squirmed under his thorough investigation. The world became a blur as Rose gave into the feelings of his tongue caressing her, his head wiggling between her thighs, hair tickling her abdomen as he sought what made her squirm. The heady lust coursing through her entire being was beginning to be too much, and she felt a rush of wetness. She gasped loudly and sat straight up when he sucked her clit. Never had she felt this sensitive. Rose blinked when she was suddenly being guided to lie back down. Her legs touched flesh and she wondered when he'd taken off his trousers, but soon that didn't matter.

"You ready, love?" asked John, out of breath, but his tongue still coming out to swipe at his glistening lips and Rose felt her heart was ready to burst out of her chest at his tender gaze.

Instead of replying vocally, she reached between them, caressing his erection from base to tip before guiding him towards her. As his head nudged at her centre, she tipped her hips to take him in. Then, his hand was around her wrist, pulling her away, only to have his lips press a kiss on each of her digits as he thrust in the rest of the way. It had been a while since Rose had had sex with anyone and, though it was slightly uncomfortable at first, stretching to accommodate him, the rush of love she felt made her whole soul sing and she knew that nothing would ever compare to being with John.

After what seemed like eternity, he finally began to pull out, only to thrust in again and, after that, they were completely wrapped up in their own little world of push-pull. Moans and groans filled the small dorm room as her muscles quivered when he'd come out, only to squeeze around him when he thrust back in. Their hips weren't the only parts moving. Hands caressed everywhere they could reach. At one point, Rose's fingers found their way through John's thick hair and when she tugged at the strands, her hand was once again next to her head on the pillow, a harder thrust making her see stars, even as fingers moved from her wrist to intertwine with hers.

Her other hand made its way to his back, her short nails scraping down, and she leaned up to whisper, "Harder," into his ear, pressing a chaste kiss on his jaw.

The hand he had on her hip gripped her so hard she was almost certain she'd bruise, but that didn't matter as his thrusts became shorter and harder. Her muscles convulsed around him and, finally, she shattered, crying out his name, his groan following shortly afterwards.

John collapsed, just barely managing to lean to the side so he didn't fall on top of her and for that, she pressed a kiss on his chin, feeling the soft tickle of tiny hairs. She cuddled close, sighing as he wrapped his arms around her.

"We should get under the covers," she murmured into his chest, shivering as the sweat they'd worked up cooled off.

He hummed, his fingers caressing her back and bum, stopping just between the joint of her legs. "You get in, I'll be right back." He pulled at the covers as he climbed off, heading towards the loo. Not a minute later, he was back, a washcloth in his hand.

Her heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. After he dropped it in the hamper and she reached towards her nightstand for the remote to finally turn the telly off, she tugged him closer, resting her head on his chest, their legs tangling together.

"I love you," she whispered.

Lips were pressed against the crown of her head. "I love you."

\-----

A few days later, they were having lunch with Rory and Amy, sitting across from the other couple, as usual. Thigh was pressed against thigh, fingers wiped at bits of crumbs, and they shot each other inconspicuous looks.

Or, at least, they thought they were inconspicuous.

"Oh, my god, you two finally did it!" Amy exclaimed, loudly enough that if anyone had been walking by, they most definitely would have heard.

" _Amy_!" John stressed out, mortified.

"What? I'm just stating the obvious. You two can hardly keep your hands to yourself. I thought it was bad before, but now!" She gestured at the two of them, practically connected by the hip.

Rose blushed, but she could feel a stupid grin take over her face. "So, is everything all set for August?" she asked and, just like she knew it would, the subject of their friends' upcoming nuptials magically changed the subject.

\-----

"Isn't that Professor Smith?"

"Yeah, I had him for stats my second year. What do you think he's doing here?"

Rose tried not to let the whispers get to her. She'd heard mutterings before, when she went over to John's classroom, especially the first week of the semester. Though usually the remarks were more offhand, made by his students about how they couldn't believe ‘the geeky and awkward professor’ had ‘snagged’ a ‘hottie’ like Rose. Here, she could almost feel her classmates' eyes on them, looking and judging. Not that she cared what they thought, but it made her uncomfortable that _they_ even cared in the first place. It's not like she and John were doing anything wrong. He wasn't her professor, never had been, and they were two, consenting adults.

Amy told her she was being paranoid, but Rose could have sworn that there was more whispering than usual. While she had learned to mostly ignore the gossiping voices, it still grated her nerves.

That day, she actually heard someone say, "Bet she's only doing him to pass his class," and she almost snapped, but before she could even utter a sound, her redheaded friend whirled around.

"Considering Rose is in her last semester of class and my mate, John, isn't teaching any upper level maths to _business majors_ ," Amy spat out, glancing at the blonde in apology, "obviously she's not in any of his classes. So why don't you and your little friends shut the hell up, and take your petty jealousy elsewhere. I can promise you, John would never have given you two harlots the time of day." She paused. "But you probably already know that." With a smirk, she turned back to Rose, grabbed her hand, and dragged her away. “Come on, your boyfriend and my fiancé are waiting for us."

Though it wouldn't be the last time she heard people talk behind her back, quite literally, Rose was never more thankful for her friends and no matter what, she would never regret choosing John.


End file.
